Highway to Hex
by Dr.Indigo
Summary: Sequel to Stand and Deliver. After an intense training session with some new students, Marco Diaz, King of the Zunaan Dimension, decides to cool down and regale his young pupils with the tale of how he became the most powerful warrior in the universe and how he ended up as the sixteenth husband of the mischievous Lady Hekapoo.
1. Prologue

Hello everybody and welcome to the second installment of my Star vs the Forces of Evil series. Not gonna bore you with a long intro so let's just jump right into it. Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. So without any further ado, let's gets started.

Highway to Hex: Prologue.

( _Pachym Desert, Zunaan Dimension: June 6, 2046_ )

For countless ages, Zunaan was known as the Land of Sand and Blood.

A desert world bathed in the light of three red suns.

Home of the Zuna, a powerful race of four-armed elephant people divided into twenty-three separate warrior tribes; each one at war with the others since the dawn of civilization.

But then one day, ten years ago, a stranger walked out into the middle of a particularly violent battlefield, and with one magnificent display of power, this traveler from a distant land brought nine armies to their knees.

From there, the stranger set out with his new followers to conquer the remaining tribes, and in the span of five days, he brought an end to a millennia long conflict without killing a single Zuna.

To show the warrior their gratitude, the Zuna built for him an immaculate palace of bronze and marble, and declared him their king.

And in time, some even came to see him as a god.

That man was an American citizen of Hispanic descent.

And his name was Marco Diaz.

On an unusually humid day in early June, two men were taking a stroll down one of the gilded halls of this grand palace, having a relatively casual conversation.

The first man was a tall, muscular Latino, with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. His face was, for lack of a better word, perfection; save for the fact that it was marred by a large scar across the left eye and a fair amount of stubble along the jawline. He wore a sleeveless, black leather jacket with no shirt, so as to show off his apelike chest and washboard stomach; which were similarly marred with numerous battle scars and tribal tattoos. Around his neck he wore a golden chain attached to a crimson cape that flowed down to just above his custom-made leather boots. He wore no crown, but he didn't need one. His aura alone conveyed his divine right to rule.

The second man was nowhere near as buff as the first, but he was still quite athletic. He was a rather suave looking fellow with lightly tanned skin, dark blue eyes and an orange handlebar moustache that matched his exquisitely groomed mane. Upon his head, he wore a crown of gold and upon his belt he wore a black hilted saber.

His name was Solaris Butterfly.

Poet.

Painter.

Fighter.

King.

The greatest lover and the most skillful swordsman alive.

At least in his wife's opinion.

"I don't see what the big deal is." Said the first man to the second man as they continued their little stroll. "You asked me to teach them how to fight, that's what I did. You asked me not to go easy on them and I didn't."

"Yes, but when I said that I meant don't let them quit halfway through doing sit-ups. Not throw them into a ring and start using them as punching bags." The second man replied, with an accent that could easily be mistaken for British. "I mean, really. Sparing with _you_ on their first day. What in heaven's name were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I only have them for two weeks, so we need to hit the ground running. Besides, it's not like they were in any real danger, I was only giving it 2%."

"And I've seen you do far worse with less."

"Well, you can't blame me for getting carried away every now and then. _Heh-Heh_."

"This isn't a game, Marco!" the Mewman King said furiously; unconsciously reaching for the hilt of his sword. "These are my children's lives we're talking about. And if you even think about putting them through that kind of punishment again, so help me I'll…"

"You'll what?" the scarred man asked, with a tone of bored antagonism. "Don't get me wrong, your reputation as a swordsman is well deserved, and your Flash Step technique is quite formidable. But make no mistake, you're only a man. Whereas I… well, I'd say I'm a god, but personally I think such a tittle is beneath me."

Solaris just scowled at his arrogance.

"But all joking aside, you have nothing to worry about. I gave Star my word that I wouldn't inflict any permanent damage. And as you know, a pact between the two of us is stronger than any other."

"Yes… I suppose that's true." The Mewman King said reluctantly as he took his hand off his trusty saber. "Just try not to let yourself get carried away again."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." The Latino King replied, half mockingly, before shifting to a somewhat more serious tone. "So, what's the word on Buff Frog these days?"

"Well, he's doing better, I suppose." Solaris said, with a subtle hint of solemnness in his voice. "The doctors say the disease is in remission, but he's not out of the woods yet. And he's already lost so much weight."

"That bad, huh?"

"Even worse I'm afraid. Poor devil looks like a frog costume with no one in it."

"Yeesh."

"I know, all of Typhon's in a tizzy. For most of them, Buff Frog is the only King they've ever known. If he should die before choosing an heir then… well, I don't even want to think about it."

"Won't the throne just go to one of his kids? I mean, he's got like twelve of them."

"That's just it. Buff Frog never picked which one would be his successor. He said he trusted them to work it out amongst themselves."

"Then what's the problem? They're good kids. If worse comes to worse, I'm sure they'll figure something out."

"Yes, but who knows how long that could take. An empty throne can lead to a lot of trouble, you know."

"Meh, I wouldn't worry about it. Buff Frog's too stubborn to die anyway."

"Easy for you to say. Typhon isn't right next door to _your_ Kingdom."

"Oh, lighten up, Solaris. You keep letting yourself get worked up like this and you're gonna end up working yourself to death."

" _Humph_. Must be nice having that much power at your disposal. Never having to worry about yourself or the ones you love."

"It is. It _really_ is." Marco said, almost tauntingly, as the two men finally reached their destination; a small, jade colored door at the end of the hall. "After you, Your Majesty."

And without a word, the Mewman King opened said door and the two of them walked right on through.

" ** _AIYEEEEEEE_**!" squealed a familiar whiney voice from just across the room beyond. "THAT HURTS!"

To no one's surprise, the girlish shriek was revealed to be that of Princess Marisol; though you'd hardly know it to look at her. Gone were her signature pink dress and matching tiara, and in their place, she wore a simple white gi with a matching belt and no shoes. Her usually pristine blonde hair was mussed and soiled with dirt. And at least 45% of her body was covered in bandages. In fact, the only thing that remained of Mewni's perfectly prissy princess was the pair of pastel pink teacups that adorned her cheeks.

"Oh, quit whining, you big baby." Said her sister Artemis, who was in a similar state of injury. "Hell, I'm hurt a lot worse than you and you don't hear me bitching about it."

"Mummy says we're not allowed to use the words Aunt Janna taught us."

"Yeah, well _Mummy's_ not here. So as far as I'm concerned, she can go…"

" _AHEM_!" came the stern but even voice of their father; instantly alerting them to his presence.

"D-Dad!" Princess Artemis said alarmedly. "Wha-Wha-What are you still doing here?"

"Yes, I'm kind of wondering that myself." Said Marco mockingly. "What the hell _are_ you still doing here?"

"What I'm doing here, _Marco_ , is making sure that my daughters are alright after that beating you gave them. As is my right as a father."

"Oh, quit coddling them, you old fool. Their injuries are only superficial. And once Hex returns with the new Restoration Pods, they'll be ready for another lesson in no time."

"You're going to send them into the arena again? So soon?"

"But of course. Like I said, I only have them for two weeks. So, if I'm going to get anything to stick, they need as much training as possible."

"But… But they're only children."

"Children whose last name happens to be Butterfly. And as I'm sure you're aware, that puts an enormous target on their backs. They must learn how to defend themselves. You can't shield them forever, _Whimsy_."

"Now see here!"

"Oh, just stay out of it, Dad!" Artemis cut in sharply, causing her sister to gasp in alarm. "You're always doing this. You're always treating us like babies. Well we're not! We're thirteen! Almost the same age Mom was when she took the throne."

"Yes, I know that, Darling. But…"

"But nothing! Marco's right. You can't protect us forever and you can't stop us from growing up. Like it or not, one day, Marisol's gonna be the next Queen of Mewni and I'm gonna be the greatest warrior this universe has ever seen. So either help us get there or stay the hell out of our way!"

Needless to say, Solaris was not prepared for such an outburst.

He had no idea how to respond.

Marco on the other hand, found it all quite hilarious.

" _Ah_ -heh-heh- **Ha**! Now this one's got some spunk!" the Latino King said with no small amount of amusement. "But don't get ahead of yourself, kiddo. It took me over two thousand years to become the warrior I am today, and you've barely even started."

"Two thou… but… but you're Mom's age." The young Princess said bewilderedly. "How's that even possible?"

"Kid, when you get to be my age, you learn that almost anything is possible." He replied mischievously. "But if you'd like a more detailed answer, I'd be happy to oblige."

"What? You mean like tell us the story of how you became the most powerful warrior in the universe?"

"Sure. Why not? Hex is gonna be at least another hour. So we might as well kill some time."

" _EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE_ ~" Artemis squealed excitedly as she began to hop up and down like a schoolgirl; much to her father's displeasure.

"Now hold on there, Marco." The Mewman King said disapprovingly. "Star told me _that_ story, and I hardly think it's appropriate for girls their age."

"You say that like I value your opinion." Marco replied bluntly, before shifting his focus toward the two young princesses. "Okay. Now, you girls know the story of how your mom and I got our Stands, right?"

Both girls nodded; one more feverishly than the other.

"Good, because this one takes place a few days after that." He said, pausing briefly to shift into storyteller mode. "It all started one afternoon while I was training at my old karate dojo. I was just sitting there; meditating. When out of nowhere, Jefferson and your Aunt Janna showed up and started busting my chops."

End Notes:

Thanks to everyone for all the support you gave to part one and I hope you give part 2 just as much love. Please remember to fav, follow, and review this story and I'll see you in the next chapter. Peace.


	2. Chapter 1

Just to give you sense of continuity, the bulk of this story takes place about four days after the battle with Octopus Garden and starts immediately after the events of "Mathmagic". Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 1.

( _Echo Creek, California: Present Day_ )

"Alright class, you may begin."

At the behest of his beloved Sensei, Marco crouched down into a seated position and went into what is known as a meditative stance.

It had been a rough couple of days for the young Latino; what with his best friend being killed and brought back to life, being endowed with a mysterious power called a Stand, and nearly being killed by a giant plant monster. Which is why he thanked his lucky stars for moments such as this one, when he could forget about all the madness in his life and just enjoy a small stretch of normalcy.

"Okay, now repeat after me. I am a Soaring Eagle."

"I am a Soaring Eagle."

"I am a Mountain Spring."

"I am a Mountain Spring."

"I am a Solid Oak."

"I am a Solid Oak."

Ah… this was just what he needed.

The mantra was complete nonsense, of course. Most likely something Sensei had seen in a kung fu movie the night before. Heck, he probably wasn't even remembering it right. But that didn't matter. It didn't matter because despite being utterly ridiculous, this simple little mantra was surprisingly effective at steadying the ol' nerves.

"I am an Iron Tiger."

"I am an Iron Tiger."

"I am a Flapping Crane."

"I am a Flapping Crane."

Yes… this was helping. Marco didn't understand why or how but he didn't care. He didn't care because in that moment all was right with the world. There were no awkward moments, no math tests, no random magical and/or supernatural weirdness. Nothing but peace, tranquility, and serenity.

"I am a Swooping Eagle."

"I am a Swooping Eagle."

"I am a Mighty Dragon."

"I am a Mighty Dragon."

"I am a total Closet Case~"

"I am a total Closet… NO!"

And just like that, the peace and serenity were shattered.

As the young Latino fell backwards in shock, he caught a glimpse of the two troublemakers responsible.

To no surprise, he found himself lying at the feet of Janna Ordonia, the bane of his existence, accompanied by her mom's new boyfriend, the incorrigible and often inebriated Jefferson Speedwagon; both of whom were chuckling to themselves like a couple of hyenas.

"Kon'nichiwa, Marco-san." the older man said mockingly. "Forgive me, but I'm not up on the latest fighting styles. What do you call that technique? Shrieking Tortoise in the Sun?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Hilarious." Marco replied sarcastically as he picked himself up off the ground. "What do you guys want?"

"A congressional act that permanently outlaws the assignment of homework." Janna answered half-jokingly. "But for now, just seeing you in that stupid looking outfit is more than enough for me."

"It's not stupid, Janna. It's a gi. Now for the second time, what do you guys want?"

"Yeesh, take a pill, Diaz." Said Jefferson, somehow sounding both annoyed and amused. "Star said you'd be here, so I figured, 'hey, why not swing by so we can all head over to the park together'."

"The park?"

"Yeah, things could escalate any day now. So we need to get as much work in while we can."

"Work?"

"Stand training, you doofus! What, did you forget?"

"No, no, I didn't forget. I just…. I think I'm gonna skip all that today."

"Exsqueeze me?"

"Look, I had a really stressful day at school. I just need a little normalcy right now to, you know, help me unwind."

"Stressful?" the older man asked incredulously. "Marco, stressful is being waist deep in camel blood while a Nigerian prince points a miniature sun at your head. Stressful is waking up in a Swedish automotive plant handcuffed to a German pederast. Stressful is your dad chasing you around the house with a baseball bat because you had him falsely arrested for destroying a fire hydrant."

"You have a very disturbing past."

"I am aware of that, Diaz! And I'm also aware of the fact that you're only fourteen. So what the hell do you have to be so stressed out about?"

"Well, Star got called to the board in math class…"

"And she shattered the space-time continuum and now you have sixty-four different memories of the same math class. I know, Janna told me. Big deal. I've seen weirder s*** than that on late night cable."

"Oh, come on. Cut me a break. We've been doing the same exercises for four days. Can't I just skip one lesson?"

"No, you can't, Marco. This isn't a game. There are very dangerous people roaming the streets looking for you guys. You need to be ready."

"But how do you know anyone else is even gonna show up? I mean, it's been like half a week and no one's tried to attack us. Maybe Ringo was the only one who sensed that psychic pulse."

"Sorry kid, but fate is never that kind, and North America has the third highest percentage of Stand Users of anywhere in the world. Odds are Echo Creek is probably crawling with psychopaths by now."

"If that's true, then why haven't we been attacked yet?"

"I don't know. This is a pretty big neighborhood. Maybe they haven't found you yet? Or maybe they have and they're just studying you for now? It doesn't matter. What does matter is that sooner or later one of them 's going to make a move and you kids need to be ready."

"Oh, come on, we know how to summon our Stands, we know how to use them in battle, and we know how to cloak our auras so they can't be detected. Isn't that enough?"

"No, it's not!" Jefferson said, starting to get rather agitated. "Marco, you may know the basics, but you don't know jack about what _your_ Stand can do. You don't know its strengths and even worse you don't know its limitations. And that kind of ignorance is what's gonna get you killed."

As obnoxious as he was over 99% of the time, Marco had to admit that the old drunk did make a convincing argument.

"Now come on. Let's ditch all this stupid karate crap and go do some real training."

Then again…

"Hey! Karate isn't stupid! Not only does it provide an amazing cardio workout, but it also builds character by instilling the principles of honor, discipline, and spiritual balance."

"Uh-huh, and what part of all that involves hanging out in a place that smells like a men's room?"

The young Latino was about to hit the old lush with what was quite possibly his best comeback ever, when a familiar voice reached his ear.

"Uh, excuse me, Sir. You're interrupting my class." Said Marco's Sensei as he sort of forced himself into the situation. "So unless you're picking up or dropping off, I'm gonna have to ask you to… _Jefferson_?"

" _Brian_?" the old drunk said excitedly, as his whole demeanor seemed to do a 180. "Son of a bitch, I don't believe it!"

And then, much to Marco's confusion, the two men embraced each other in what is commonly referred to as a 'Manly Hug'.

"Oh my god! Brian, what are you doing here?" Jefferson asked exuberantly as they broke off from their embrace.

"This is my hometown, man. This is my dojo. What are you doing here?" replied Sensei, sounding just as ecstatic.

"I live here too!"

"Shut up. Since when?"

"Almost two years now."

"Shut up! You mean we could've been hanging out this whole time."

"I know, right. It's totally nuts."

" _Ahem_!" Marco cut in suddenly, instantly gaining their attention. "You two know each other?"

"Hell yeah, we know each other. This crazy bastard saved my ass down in Oaxaca a few years back." Jefferson explained. "See, one night I had had a few too many drinks and I accidentally stepped on the local Jefe's prize-winning game cock. For a second there, I was sure they were gonna skin me alive. But then this guy jumps in outta nowhere and starts puttin' the razzle dazzle on those mooks."

"Yeah… to be fair, I was pretty wasted too. I think I thought I was in an action movie or something."

"Immaterial. What matters is that we got the hell out of town and spent the next two weeks getting to know each other while a friendly pig farmer helped smuggle us back into the states."

"Jeez-a-loo, you're like a modern-day Huck Finn." Janna said suddenly; if for no other reason than to remind everyone that she was still there.

"I know, right? So, Brian, what've you been up to? You still living with your mom?"

"Yeah, but I finally earned my Red Belt."

"Really? That's fantastic! Congratulations, man."

" _What_! You just said karate was stupid."

"Shut up, Marco."

"So, what about you, man? You still sleeping on park benches?"

"Nah, I'm staying with this chick now. See, I kinda ' _saved her daughter from getting hit by a speeding car_ ' and she insisted that I move in with her. Which works out just fine for me since my dick landlord was gonna evict me anyway."

"Jefferson, you must've been born lucky." Sensei said, sounding sort of envious. "So, how do you know Marco?"

"Oh, yeah… that's actually kinda complicated. Mind if we talk over here? _In private_?"

"Oh… uh… sure. No problem. BRB, kids."

And with that, the two men went off to have their private chat; leaving Marco and Janna alone with their thoughts.

"Ugh! I can't believe that jerk!" the young Latino growled disgustedly.

"What?"

"Oh, come on! First he makes fun of karate. Then two seconds later he's congratulating Sensei for getting his Red Belt. He's such a hypocrite!"

"And?"

" _And_ , I find it infuriating that our so-called _teacher_ is such a two-faced liar!"

"Marco, that's how _all_ adults are. They make fun of their friends behind their backs and then they act super nice to their faces. That's how society works. It's been that way since forever." Janna explained in an annoyingly matter-of-factly tone. "Besides, you're not pissed at Jefferson, you're pissed at your Sensei for being friends with someone you don't like."

"What! That's… that is the most… shut up!"

"Oh, excellent comeback, Diaz. You pop a blood vessel thinking up that one?"

Marco just growled and clinched his fists.

Not wanting to dignify that with a proper response, the young Latino turned away from Janna and shifted his focus onto the two men talking just out of earshot.

He wondered what they were talking about.

'Hmmm… Kung Fu Fighting's ears are a lot sharper than mine. I wonder…' he thought as he unconsciously willed the left side of his Stand's head to materialize over his own.

Now he could hear them perfectly.

"…can't just leave, man. I've got responsibilities. I mean, who's gonna take care of my mom or keep up the rent on the dojo?"

"Look, I know it's short notice, but trust me, you gotta get outta town. You got any relatives you could stay with?"

"Well… I have an aunt and uncle down in San Diego, but…"

"Good. Now send your other students home, grab you mom, and get the hell out of Echo Creek tonight."

"Jefferson, what's going on? I've never seen you this freaked out before."

"Look, I promise I'll explain everything later, but for right now, just trust me. Some seriously bad s*** is about to go down and you do _not_ wanna get caught in the crossfire."

"Well… maybe I can work something out with the landlord. Okay, Jefferson, I trust you."

And with that, the two men separated, and Sensei walked over to where his other students were all waiting; each with a look of confusion etched on their face.

"Okay, listen up, class. I have an announcement to make." He said, using his 'serious voice'. "Due to certain unforeseen circumstances, I'm afraid I'm going to have to close down the dojo until further notice. So… this is gonna be our last session for… well, for like a while."

And just like that, Marco felt his heart sink into his stomach.

End Notes:

Not much to say this time.

So… thanks for reading.

Peace.


	3. Chapter 2

No Spoilers or Hints. Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 2.

( _Forty-Five Minutes Later_ )

Sensei watched with a heavy heart as the Birnbaum family limousine pulled away from his front entrance.

The last of his pupils was safely on his way home.

Now all that remained was to find the ever-elusive Closed sign and lock up for the evening.

Or rather, lock up for the foreseeable future.

Following the advice of his old traveling buddy Jefferson Speedwagon, strip mall ' _karate master_ ' Brian 'Sensei' Brantley had decided to close down his beloved dojo and skip town; possibly forever.

Granted, his old chum had been a little vague with the details, but Sensei trusted his judgment. After all, he was a much more intelligent and cultured denizen of the bottom rung of society than he was. He'd been disowned by one of the most respected and influential families in the country, expelled from one of the most prestigious universities in the world, slept in some of the most luxurious bus stations on six continents. In short, he was the Ludwig von Drake of drunken bums. So, if he said leave town, then it was probably a good idea to listen to him.

The only problem was, well, actually doing it.

'How the hell am I supposed to keep up with the rent on this place?' Sensei asked himself internally as he darted around the dojo, looking for his keys. 'Okay… think, I've got enough right now to pay for this month and the next, but what if I'm gone longer than that? Hmm… I guess I could sell some of my old action figures. Those might be worth something. Oh! I know! My comic book collection! That's probably worth a fortune on the internet! Now… how do I use the internet? Maybe Mom knows. Oh s***! Mom! How the heck am I gonna explain this to her?'

 _Ding-Dong_ ~

Suddenly, Sensei was jarred back to reality by the familiar chime of his front door.

Someone had entered the dojo.

Assuming it was one of his students returning for a forgotten bag, the 'old master' quickly spun around to offer his assistance; only for his eyes to fall upon two people he had never seen before.

The first was a large, heavyset fellow of African American descent; falling somewhere between pleasantly plump and morbidly obese. He wore a black and white tracksuit with matching sneakers and a newsboy cap. He was sporting a pair of mirrored sunglasses that obscured his eyes and around his neck he wore a golden chain attached to a hip hop medallion that read 'God of Destruction'. His expression was calm, almost playful, but there was just something off about him that Sensei couldn't quite put his finger on.

The second was a young woman who was also of African America descent; though her atypical skin color made her look like some kind of mixed breed. She wore a red leather jacket with matching skintight pants. She had three gold earrings in her left ear and a wolf tattoo on her exposed naval, but most striking of all was the fact that her head was completely bald. Unlike her larger companion, her expression was stern and cold, and her body just seemed to radiate some sort of foul malignancy.

In short, they probably weren't there to sell magazine subscriptions.

"Um… can I help you?" Sensei asked, trying very hard not to show how freaked out he really was.

"Well now, that all depends." Replied the fat man; his voice soft and strangely soothing. "Nikki, what's the word?"

The bald woman closed her eyes and started sniffing the air like a dog.

 _Sniff!_

 _Sniff!_

 _Sniff!_

 _Sniff!_

"He's not one of 'em, Fats." She said after what felt like hours; her voice surprisingly hoarse and gravely. "But they were definitely here not that long ago. Three of 'em. And one of 'em kinda smells like you."

"Oh~ Then it sounds like we just hit the jackpot." The fat man, appropriately named Fats, said with a smile, before turning his attention back on Sensei. "Say, old man, maybe you can help us after all. See, we're looking for some friends of ours and we've got it on good authority that they were just here. You seen 'em?"

"Um…well, lots of people come in and out of this dojo every day. Hundreds in fact. After a while the names and faces all kinda blur together."

"Is that right?" Fats asked, clearly not buying his story. "Well, maybe we can refresh your memory. Nikki?"

 _Sniff!_

 _Sniff!_

 _Sniff!_

"One's a white man in his mid-forties. Reeks of curacao and cheap tobacco."

 _Sniff!_

 _Sniff!_

"The other two are teenagers. A sweaty Hispanic boy and a Filipina wearing silk panties."

'Marco and Jefferson…' Sensei thought in a panic. "Uh… nope. Sorry. Doesn't sound familiar."

"Is that a fact?" Fats asked dubiously as he started to waddle towards the older man. "Because, you know, from where I'm standing, that kinda sounded like a lie."

As he came ever closer, Sensei felt a strange sensation start to overtake his body. He couldn't explain why, but he suddenly felt as though he were a field mouse about to be crushed in the paws of a Bengal tiger.

"And I don't like being lied to." The fan man said in a soft but threatening tone as he morphed his left hand into a fist and slowly raised it up to his head.

For a split second, Sensei was certain he was gonna die.

But then…

"Hey, Fats!" the bald woman called from across the room. "Forget about him. I just picked up their trail."

"Huh… is that right?" the large man said as he slipped back into his previous demeanor. "Well, old man, looks like this is your lucky day."

And with that, he turned around and started waddling for the front door.

For a split second, Sensei felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

He wasn't going to die.

However, all his good feelings disappeared once he remembered the words of his old pal Jefferson.

 _Some seriously bad s*** is about to go down and you do not wanna get caught in the crossfire._

'Oh jeez, Jefferson, just what the hell are you mixed up in?' he thought worriedly as he watched the scary fat man waddle towards his bald-headed accomplice. 'Wait a minute, these guys are going after Jefferson. Oh god, they're going after Marco too! I gotta… I gotta do something!'

Just then, he noticed that Fats had his back turned.

Meaning that he probably wouldn't see a sneak attack coming.

'Bingo.'

Then, without a moment's hesitation, Sensei lunged forward into a devastating roundhouse kick and aimed it right at the back of the evil fat man's head.

However, before his foot could make contact, some invisible force grabbed hold of his ankle and, in one fluid motion, threw him across the room and into the adjacent wall.

"Ow…" he moaned softly before peeling off the wall and falling to the floor in a heap.

"Yeah… not smart, man." Fats said amusedly. "Maybe you should just stay down."

"Ugh! Fats, will you hurry up already?" Nikki spoke up suddenly. "The trail's getting cold! If we don't move now, I could lose the scent!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." The fat man replied with a playful smirk. "Don't get your panties in a knot."

'Ugh… what the hell is this guy?' Sensei asked himself as he shakily got back to his feet. 'No, never mind that now. I gotta… I gotta stall for time. Make them lose the trail. Gotta save my friends.'

So, having no other ideas at the time, the 'karate master' called out,

"Hey, Fatty! You are… uh… fat!"

But, of course, the large man paid him no mind.

"Hey! Don't you ignore me, you stinking jackass! Turn around! What's the matter? You scared? Yeah, that's it, isn't it? You're scared! You're just a… just a… sissy-boned fat boy! Yeah, that's what you are!"

"Ow, my poor feelings." Fats replied mockingly as he continued towards the exit.

'Oh man, oh man, oh man! What am I gonna do? That freak's gonna rip Marco and Jefferson apart! I gotta… I gotta stop him… somehow… I gotta….'

Without thinking, Sensei reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and chucked it at the back of Fats' head.

However, before it even came close to hitting its mark, a strange, invisible force crushed the outdated device and let the pieces fall to the floor.

This time, Fats turned around.

"You're just set on doing this, aren't you?" he asked with only the slightest trace of amusement.

"Y-Yep."

"And you're not gonna quit bugging me until I fight you, are you?"

"Nope."

"Fats, forget this guy! The trail's gettin' cold!"

"Nikki, be quiet."

"But…"

"I said, be quiet." He repeated calmly, before making his way toward his new target. "I hope they're worth it, old man."

"Who?"

"The friends you're obviously trying to protect." Fats answered with a smile, showing off a pair of golden eye teeth. "What? Did you think you were being subtle?"

"Yeah, well… Mom always said I was a lousy actor." Sensei replied before shifting into a battle stance. "Oh, and for the record, my friends are always worth it."

Just then, the 'karate master' felt an invisible hand grab hold of his windpipe.

"Good. Now you can die without any regrets."

XXX

( _Several Hours Later_ )

The streetlights were just coming on by the time Star and Marco reached their front yard, and the two teens were still aching from the day's lesson.

Jefferson had had them using their Stands to hold them up in the air, and believe me, it was nowhere near as easy as it sounds. But supposedly, it was an exercise he'd picked up in South Africa that's meant to teach better aura control. And according to him, with good aura control, a Stand User can fight longer while using up less energy. A useful skill to have for certain, but oh what a bitch it is to learn.

" _Ugh_... My back!" Marco groaned as he and Star made their way up to the front door. "That crazy drunk is trying to kill me!"

"Oh, lighten up, Marco. You're taking it all too personally." Star replied as she tried to massage her own aching shoulder. "I mean, it's not like Sensei never made you work hard."

"Yeah, well, Jefferson's no Sensei. And it just… _really_ ticks me off that that creep has the nerve to call himself his friend."

"Wow~ If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound a little _jealous_ ~"

"Well then it's a good thing you _do_ know better."

And with that, Marco reached for the doorknob.

However, before he could even get close, the door suddenly flew open and the young Latino was swept up in the bone crushing embrace of his father, Raphael; who for some reason seemed to be sobbing uncontrollably.

"¡Oh, hijo mío!" the older Hispanic said as the tears kept pouring out. "¡Gracias al cielo estás bien!"

"Dad… air…" Marco choked out, but in the back of his mind he was worried. The last time his dad had slipped this far back into his native tongue it ended with a long talk about 'Goldfish Heaven'.

"Is that Marco and Star?" asked the familiar voice of his mother, Angie, as she arrived on the scene; looking equally distraught. "Oh, thank heaven! We were so worried. First you wouldn't answer your phones and then all that stuff on the news."

"News?" Marco asked confusedly, but any further inquiry died as soon as he looked over his dad's shoulder and into the living room.

There on the tv, one of the reporters from Channel 5 was giving a live report in front of his beloved dojo.

In the upper right corner of the screen there was a picture of his beloved Sensei.

And below that picture hung a caption that made his blood run cold.

It read as follows.

 **Strip Mall Massacre.**

End Notes:

Please don't hate me for this.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading, please don't forget to follow, fav, or leave a review, and I'll see you in the next one.

Peace.


	4. Chapter 3

Not a lot of reviews for this story so far. Hope that will change soon. Anyway, Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Blah, Blah, Blah. Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 3.

( _Several More Hours Later_ )

"Okay, is it on? I can't tell if it's on. There's a blue light, does that mean it's on? Marco, this is your laptop. Does the blue light mean it's on or…?"

"Yes, Star! It's on! Just… just click the button already."

"Alright, alright… don't bite my head off."

And with that, the young princess tapped the left button on the mousepad and signed on to Group Chat.

Sensei's murder was the first major act of violence to occur in Echo Creek in over ten years. So, naturally, the media was squeezing as much as they could out of the story. Channel 5 was spinning it as a robbery gone wrong. Channel 18 was saying it was gang related. But, Star and Marco knew the truth. This was precisely what Jefferson had warned them about.

This was the work of a Stand User.

Not five minutes after the news hit them like a steamer trunk full of concrete, the two teens received a mass text from their 'wise old master'; declaring this a state of emergency and calling for a 'video conference' at 10:30 sharp.

Several hours and one uncomfortably silent dinner later, the appointed time was upon them.

Now all that remained was for the others to sign in.

 **StarFan13** _would like to join your Group Chat._

 _Accepted._

"First! I'm first! Hi, Star! It's me, Annie! See me? I'm first!"

 **Sk8rGrrl23** _would like to join your Group Chat._

 _Accepted._

"Hey, guys. Sorry, I'm late. I had to help my dad with something. Is everybody here?"

 **BlackHeartUnicorn99** _would like to join your Group Chat._

 _Accepted._

"Ugh! See? I told you we'd be the last ones here."

"Stow the tude, Smartass. We have a problem. A HUGE problem."

"Easy now, Jefferson." Annie cut in, suddenly sounding a lot less crazy. "I know you're scared. We all are. But we can't let the fear beat us. It's like my mom always says, 'the things we dread most never come to pass'."

"No offense, Lightfoot, but your mom's a dingbat." Jefferson replied caustically. "We are screwed! Eight ways to Sunday! And no amount of positive thinking is gonna save our hides!"

"Hey, chill man. She was just tryin' to help." Jackie spoke up; clearly trying to be the voice of reason. "Now look, we all knew from the start that things were gonna get bad. Okay, maybe we didn't think they'd get _this_ bad, but that's not what matters. What matters is how we're gonna deal with this. So, Jefferson, what do we do?"

"Kid, I have no f***ing idea." The older Stand User admitted mournfully. "I mean, I knew s*** was gonna hit the fan, but I didn't think we'd be facing _these_ two."

"Wait, you mean you know who killed Sensei?" Marco asked in a tone that deeply concerned the young Mewman princess.

"Believe me, kid, I wish I didn't. But based on the surveillance tapes they showed on the news, it looks like we're dealing with Fats Dynamite and Nikki à Trois; the God of Destruction and the Ultimate Tracker. Oh boy… when it rains it f***ing pours."

"So what?" the young Latino asked, once again using that disconcerting tone. "Just tell us how to find these freaks and we'll take care of them. Just like we did with Ringo."

"Marco, I don't think you quite grasp the supreme mountain of s*** that we're in. Ringo was just a banker with a super f***ed up hobby. Fats Dynamite is the single most dangerous Stand User alive."

"Oh, come on. He can't be that powerful." Star interjected, hoping beyond hope that Jefferson wouldn't prove her wrong. "I mean, if we all gang up on him at once, he shouldn't stand a chance. Right?"

"Wrong." The old drunk replied bluntly. "Kids, let me tell you a little story. About sixty years ago, a young mental patient was unwittingly inducted into the CIA's MKUltra Program. Every day for five months he was force-fed LSD and subjected to a combination of sensory deprivation and electroshock therapy, in the hopes of developing a new method for extracting intel from captured soviet spies. But instead, all they did was give birth to one of the most terrifying Stands in human history. The Witchdoctor."

"Wait… MKUltra? That was all about mind control, right?"

"Bit of an oversimplification, Jackie, but otherwise you are correct. Which is why I suppose you could say that The Witchdoctor was MKUltra's greatest achievement. And their greatest f*** up. See, somehow all those mad experiments endowed that poor nameless schizophrenic with complete control over the mindscape. He could go into your brain, take old thoughts out, put new ones in. He could completely reprogram your personality with just a couple of sentences, or worse, turn you into a mindless zombie with a single word."

"Wow… and Ms. Heinous thinks she's all that." Star muttered absentmindedly. "Wait, what do you mean nameless?"

"Well, the first thing this guy did after unlocking his Stand was order the scientists to set the lab on fire and eat each other. So, any info on who he really was is long gone. Not that it mattered, since most people just called him the Hobyah Man."

"Hobyah Man?"

"Yeah… don't ask, it'll give you nightmares. And its beside the point. What matters is that after he escaped from the CIA, the Hobyah Man and The Witchdoctor terrorized the Stand User community for decades. Every year, hundreds of innocent people would fall victim to his mental mischief. He turned feminists into housewives and choirboys into cannibals; all for the sake of his own amusement. But when he came across a Stand User, he did something even worse. He completely stripped them of their freewill and made them a part of his own private army."

"W-Why did he need an army?"

"And what does any of this have to do with the freaks who killed Sensei?"

"I was just getting to that, Diaz. Keep your pants on. Now, why this guy needed an army is immaterial, because ten years ago, someone stepped in and put an end to his plans once and for all. Now, I wasn't there, obviously, but according to my sources, one day, some random kid just wandered into the Hobyah Man's lair down in San Diego. I guess he was having some kind of rally for his army of zombies, I don't know, it doesn't matter. What does matter, is that the second he sensed this kid, the Hobyah Man went straight into his whole voodoo, brain puppet spiel, but for some reason it wasn't working. So, in a panic, he sicked his goons on him. And… that's when it all went to hell."

"What happened?"

"Let me put it this way, Lightfoot, you ever see one of those cheesy old kung fu movies where one guy takes on a whole army?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Well, it was like that, only with a lot more blood and chunks of bone flying everywhere."

"Jeez…"

"And how exactly do you know this?" asked Marco skeptically.

"Not that it's any of your business, Diaz, but I've met one of the survivors. His name's Herb. Sweet guy. Talks through a hole in his throat. But that's not important. What is important, is that this guy, this fourteen-year-old kid, singlehandedly slaughtered over five hundred A-List Stand Users, including the Hobyah Man himself, and brutally maimed the rest. And from that day on, that boy was known as the deadliest man alive. And that boy is the same man who turned my old pal Brian into a pile of human confetti."

"Ew~ Couldn't you have picked a less disgusting metaphor?"

"Suck it up, Jackie. We've got more important things to worry about than your delicate constitutions. Like the one-man hit squad and his psychotic half Comanche girlfriend roaming the streets looking for us!"

"Okay, okay, just calm down, Jefferson." Star spoke up suddenly. "Now, just what makes this Fats guy so dangerous? What does his Stand even do?"

"Well, his Stand, Blue Swede, its punches are so powerful they can rip holes in the fabric of reality; creating two-way portals to anywhere he's seen or been to before."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Said Annie out of nowhere.

"Oh really? Then clearly you've never seen what happens when you open a portal on or inside of living tissue."

Star's heart suddenly leapt into her throat.

Jefferson's words had stirred up several long-forgotten memories.

She recalled a time when she was very young and her mother first introduced her to the Scissors Enforcer, Hekapoo. With her usual twisted flair, the horned witch had explained to her the wonders of Dimensional Scissors, as well as the dangers. Using a nearby frog for demonstration, she showed the young princess why you must only open portals in empty space and never on or inside a living creature.

The results were… _unpleasant_.

"Ah, I take it from your blood drained faced that you know what I'm talking about." Said Jefferson, bringing her back to the present. "As for the rest of you, let's just say that my man Herb didn't get that hole in his throat from smoking."

The other three girls all gave a collective _gulp_ ; signifying that they'd gotten the message.

Marco just clinched his fists in anger.

"Only thing I can't figure out is what that psycho's doing here. Last I heard, he was doing some kind of secret training somewhere in the Congo. No way he could've sensed that pulse all the way from there."

"And how do you know that?" asked Marco, yet again using that discomfiting tone.

"Again, not that this is any of your business, but a while back I had a friend design an app for me that lets me keep tabs on certain people of interest. Helps me stay one step ahead of the _really_ dangerous nut-bags out there."

"Well, you just have an answer for everything, _don't you_?"

"Marco!"

"No, no, let him speak. You got something to say, Diaz?"

"Yeah, for a so-called expert on Stand Users, you were pretty stingy with the details when you were talking to Sensei. Maybe if you hadn't been so secretive, he'd still be alive!"

"Oh, is _that_ what you think?"

"Uh, guys." Jackie spoke up, trying to act as moderator. "Maybe we should…"

"Well let me tell you something, Diaz. If anyone's to blame for Brian's death, it's you!"

"What?"

"Fats' partner, Nikki, she has a Stand called Red Bone that's bound to her nose. It amplifies her sense of smell and lets her track people like a hunting dog. She and Fats were probably only at that dojo because they were following our scents. Which wouldn't have happened if you'd just done what I'd told you!"

" _What_?"

"I said from day one; Stand Training every day after school. No exceptions. But no~ You tried to welsh out of it just because you had a _tough day at school~_ "

"Shut up."

"I warned you about what was coming. But did you listen? No!"

"Shut up!"

"And now my friend is dead because you're nothing but a selfish prick!"

"I said **_SHUT UP_**!"

Without thinking, Marco summoned Kung Fu Fighting and smashed his laptop with its right fist.

" _Whoa_! Marco, what the heck?"

"That… that… **_BASTARD_**!" the young Latino roared, shaking with rage. "That arrogant, self-righteous ass! And he had the gall to call himself Sensei's friend!"

"Marco… I think you're going to a very bad place." Star said in a scared but soothing voice as she reached over to put a sympathetic hand on her friend's shoulder. "Maybe you should just take a deep breath and…"

" ** _DON'T TOUCH ME_**!"

Star jumped back in alarm.

She had never seen him like this before.

Never seen his eyes so full of hate.

Fortunately, Marco seemed to sense her distress and his expression softened.

"Star, I… I'm so sorry, I just… I need to get outta here."

As if on a reflex, the young Latino reached into his pocket and pulled out his trusty Dimensional Scissors.

"Marco, what are you…"

But before she could finish, Marco slashed the open air; creating a large red portal to who-knows-where.

"Wh-Where are you going?"

"I don't know… I just… I need some time to think."

"Marco, wait, don't…"

But it was too late.

Marco had already gone through the strange portal and closed it up behind him.

Leaving Star confused, frightened, and alone.

"Well… this does not bode well."

End Notes:

Sorry if this chapter seemed a little slow. I promise things will pick up soon enough. In the meantime, thank you all for reading, please remember to follow, fav, and/or leave a review before you leave.

Until next time.

Peace.


	5. Chapter 4

Not in the mood for chitchat. So, let's get things started. Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda, Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 4.

( _The Following Afternoon_ )

 ** _BRRRRRING~_**

The final bell rang throughout the halls of Echo Creek Academy; signifying the end of yet another school day.

To the majority of the student body, this was a source of great relief.

It meant an end to studying and lectures, and the beginning of a few hours of free time, before returning home for an evening of homework and family time.

But to the remaining 1%, it was just a sobering reminder of their dire situation.

While the masses were pouring out the front doors to freedom, Star was sitting alone beneath the statue of Otis; the school's beloved, if not somewhat creepy, opossum mascot. She couldn't quite recall when or how she'd gotten there, but at the very least she knew why. She was there because she wanted to be alone. She wanted to be alone because she was upset. And she was upset because there were two superpowered murderers roaming the streets and her emotionally damaged best friend had run away from home to another dimension.

In short, it had been a pretty awful day.

Never in all her life had the young princess felt so helpless. This situation was spiraling out of control and she could do nothing. Well, nothing that wouldn't get her head ripped off anyway.

As she sat there, feeling utterly weak and worthless, Star prayed to whatever forces control the universe and begged them for a sign.

Something, anything, that would show her that this would all work out.

That they'd all come out of this safe, happy, and alive.

 ** _KAAAW!_**

 ** _KAAAW!_**

The familiar cry of a common Earth Bird shook the young princess back to reality and startled her into a standing position. On a reflex, she spun around to see what it was and, to no surprise, she found a little black crow standing on Otis' back.

"Oh… hey there, little birdie." She said, sounding more than a little embarrassed by her reaction. "Um… I don't suppose you know how to get us all out of this mess, do you?"

 ** _KAAAW!_**

 ** _KAAAW!_**

Was its only reply.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. Thanks anyway."

So, having had quite enough of talking to birds, Star turned back around and started off for home.

However, just as she was about to take her third step, a scratchy voice whispered in her ear.

" _Hobyah~ Hobyah~_ "

The young princess stopped for a moment to look around, but when she saw that no one else was there, she just shrugged and kept on moving.

" _Hobyah~ Hobyah~_ "

The voice said again, only this time it was loud enough for Star to tell where it was coming from. So, she spun back around, but to her surprise, she only saw the same crow from before; still sitting on Otis' back.

"What the heck is going on here?"

As if to answer her question, the crow suddenly opened its beak, and to her great astonishment, it spoke.

" _Tear down the hemp stalks~_ "

"Okay… this is getting weird."

And it only got weirder from there.

For after giving off something that vaguely resembled a smirk, the little black bird started to sing.

" _Hobyah~ Hobyah~_ "

" _Tear down the hemp stalks~_ "

" _Chase off the man and woman~_ "

" _Take away the little girl~_ "

" _Hobyah~ Hobyah~_ "

As the crow finished its nasty little song, Star tried to back away; only to bump into something solid.

Slowly, she craned her eyes upward, and was met with a most horrific sight.

Staring down at her was an impossibly tall man with blazing red eyes, putrid green skin, pointed ears, and rotting yellow teeth as thin and as sharp as needles.

In a hideous, phlegm filled voice, it spoke to her.

" _Hobyah~ Hobyah~ Wake up, you dingus!_ "

Suddenly, Star's eyes snapped open, and she was back at the base of the opossum statue. Only this time she wasn't alone, but surrounded by three of her fellow Stand Users.

"Star, are you okay?" Jackie asked concernedly.

"Whah? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What happened?"

"You fell asleep." Janna answered bluntly. "For the sixth time, I might point out."

"Eighth." Annie corrected. "She passed out twice in the girl's room too."

"And how exactly do you know that, Lightfoot?"

"Um… no reason."

"Jeez-a-loo."

"Uh, guys, I think we're getting off topic here." Jackie interjected, sounding more than a little irritated. "Maybe we should all try focusing on the issues at hand. Like the fact that my boyfriend is missing!"

"Jackie, I… I'm really sorry about last night." Star spoke up, sounding both apologetic and groggy. "I wanted to stop him, I swear, and I even waited up all night for him to come back but… well, you didn't see what he was like. He was… scary."

"I'm not blaming you, Star. I just… this whole thing's gotten so out of control. I mean, psychic powers, serial killers, Marco lost somewhere in the universe. We're fourteen! We should be worrying about boys and algebra tests. Not superpowered lunatics coming to turn us into confetti!"

"Jackie, calm down. It's gonna be okay."

"No, it isn't, Janna!" the skater girl bit back harshly. "This is not okay! It will never be okay! Even if we all live through this nightmare, we'll never be able to forget it! We'll all have to live with these memories for the rest of our lives and I don't… I don't think I can handle that."

Jackie looked as though she were on the verge of tears, and unfortunately, Star was still too sleep deprived to be of much help.

Luckily, Janna was sitting right beside her and was more than willing to put her arm around her shoulder in a silent attempt to soothe her troubled mind.

"Um… not to belittle this touching moment, but what _are_ we going to do?" asked Annie, with an uncharacteristic air of seriousness. "Janna, you said earlier that Jefferson had some thoughts about our next move. Care to share some of them?"

"I could, but you won't like them."

"Try me. They can't be any worse than this."

"Well, you say that, but…"

"Janna, please." Star interjected, almost pleadingly. "Just tell us."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." The young Filipina said with a sort of mournful sigh. "Well, like I said earlier, Jefferson and I discussed a few of our options over breakfast, and based on what Star told us about last night, I think our safest bet is to fake our own deaths and skip town."

" _WHAT_?"

"Jefferson has a friend in Secaucus who can set us up with new identities. Heck, his Stand could give us all new faces if we pay him enough."

"Have you lost your mind?" Annie asked accusingly. "We're fourteen. We can't just run away from home. What about our parents?"

"I don't like it either, Lightfoot, but with Fats in town, making ourselves scarce is the best way to protect them."

"That's stupid and you know it."

"You wanna go, Four-Eyes?"

" _Ahem_!" Star cut in, in what appeared to be the nick of time. "Janna, what about some of the other options?"

"Oh, yeah, well… right now it's safe to assume that Fats and Nikki have no idea who we are yet. Maybe we can use that to our advantage."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, as far as they know, the psychic pulse that brought them here was triggered by only one Stand User. Maybe we can trick them into thinking it came from some other Stand User. Like maybe one of the other ones who came here to kill us. Then they'd be satisfied and leave us alone."

"But then we'd just be getting someone else killed instead."

"Yeah, someone who came here for the sole purpose of killing _us_."

"So basically, you're saying our only options are faking our deaths or performing human sacrifice."

"Yup."

"That's it? That's all our _brilliant_ teacher could come up with?"

"No, but like I said, they're our safest bets."

"So, there _are_ other options."

"Of course there are, Lightfoot, but they all end with at least two of us getting our heads cracked open. The point is to get through this with as few casualties as possible."

"Then what the heck was all that training for?"

"It was to prepare us for random attacks from guys like Ringo. Not for something like this. This Fats guy is on a whole different level. He took down an entire army when he was fourteen. Just imagine what he could do to us now."

"So, we're not even gonna try? We're just gonna runaway and live in hiding for the rest of our lives? Well, nuts to that! I say we find this guy and take him head-on."

"I think that Stand's gone to your head, Lightfoot."

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because you've got a ninja frog coming out of your back doesn't mean you're not the same scrawny little dorken doofus you were last week."

"You wanna go?"

And it was at this point that Star stopped paying attention.

Between her latest nightmare and the imminent threat of a Stand User attack, listening to these two bicker was the last thing she wanted to focus on.

Beside her, she could see that Jackie was still looking pretty upset. So, being the kind and sympathetic princess that she was, she reached over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Jackie, I know you're worried. But trust me, everything's gonna…"

Just then, something kicked Star in the back of the head like an angry mule. It was so hard and so sudden that for a split second she could've sworn her eyes popped out of her head. Then came an overwhelming sensation. Sort of like the fear she felt when she first sensed Ringo's aura, only much more intense. And there was a strange sort of pressure behind it that pushed up against the back of her skull. But even stranger than that, there was an odd sense of deja vu mixed in.

Almost as if…

"Marco…" Jackie muttered fearfully under her breath, before turning to Star with eyes full of confusion. "Star… that… that was Marco."

Star didn't respond, but she knew she was right.

And from the looks on their faces, Janna and Annie knew it too.

The aura she'd just sensed was unmistakably Marco's.

Only something was wrong.

Marco's aura felt off somehow.

It was much more intense.

More animalistic.

Almost… demonic.

"Sweet Christmas…" Star muttered, using a fake swear she'd learned from her esteemed mentor. "Marco… what have you done?"

End Notes:

Just in case anyone is interested, in this universe, Africa has the highest percentage of natural born Stand Users per generation. China has the second highest. Then North America, Continental Europe, South America, and Japan. Everywhere else the percentage is so low it's next to nonexistent.

Well, now that we've got the trivia out of the way, thanks for reading and I hope to see you all next time.

Until then,

Peace.


	6. Chapter 5

Blah. Blah. Blah. Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 5.

( _A Short Time Later_ )

A cool breeze wafted across the open clearing; filling the air with the rich scent of pine sap and deer musk.

An unpleasant odor to most, but to one who had just spent an extended period living in an outer dimensional bayou it was a welcome change of pace.

Atop a large, partially buried boulder at the center of the clearing, sat a familiar young Latino, dressed in a familiar white gi with a matching red belt.

And as he sat there in a meditative stance, his companion stood at the base of the rock; smirking mischievously.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look right now?" Hekapoo asked teasingly.

"No." he answered calmly; sporting a mischievous smirk of his own. "But from the look on your face, I'd say I must look pretty damn hilarious."

"How do you know what my face looks like? Your eyes are closed."

"Don't need them. My Stand's eyes are so sharp they can see for up to four kilometers." He replied with a sort of bored bravado. "Besides, I know you, Hex. I've got that cute little smirk of yours tattooed on my brain."

"That sounded better in your head, didn't it?"

"Hey, it turned _you_ on, didn't it?"

" _Heh-heh._ Fair enough." The demon girl answered naughtily. "So, do you really think he'll show?"

"Of course. I sent him an invitation. And after all the trouble I went through to set this up, it'd be rude of him not to."

"Okay, but why do we have to meet him all the way out here?"

"Too much noise in the city. Too many distractions." The young Latino replied nonchalantly. "Besides, I rather like the view out here. Reminds me of all the camping trips my parents took me on when I was a kid."

"Uh… you still are a kid."

" _Heh_. That's sweet of you to say, gorgeous. But we both know that's a lie."

"Well… you're a kid compared to me. But then again, so is almost everyone else in the universe."

"Huh. Never thought of it that way. Guess you got me on that one, Hex."

"Yeah, yeah." She said casually, before adopting a somewhat more… _amorous_ tone. "So~ What do you wanna do when this is over? Ice skating on the frozen moons of Trost? Skinny-dipping in the lukewarm lakes of Regus IV? I hear Milly Sparkles plans on shutting down the Bounce Lounge. Maybe with a little coaxing, I could get her to sell it to me, and we could turn it into our own private love nest~"

"Actually, Hex, when this is over I plan on heading back home."

"Oh, um… alright, a nice, quiet evening at home can be just as romantic."

"I meant _my_ home, Hex, not _our_ home."

"Wait, you mean you're gonna move back in with your parents? Why?"

"You know why, Hex. We've discussed this."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you were serious! I mean, come on! What does this stinky little dirt rock have to offer that I can't give you, only a million times better?"

"Now, now, it's only temporary. There's no need to get upset."

"Upset? I'm not upset! I just don't see why you'd wanna stay here with your lame parents and that… that… _slutty skateboarder_ , when you could be with a real woman like me!"

"Aw~ Is my sweet widdle Heka-Poopsie feeling jealous?"

" **Don't call me that!** "

" _AH_ -HA-HA-HA-HA-HA- ** _HA_**! Fair enough. But listen, you've got nothing to worry about. I'm only staying here as a courtesy to my parents. Once I graduate high school I'm kissing this mudball goodbye for good. And as for Jackie, well… I might let her have some fun with my body, but my heart belongs to you, babe."

"If she so much as touches you I'll…"

"You'll _what_ , Hex?" Marco asked threateningly, as he fixed Hekapoo with a piecing glare.

"Uh… nothing. Never mind."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

And with an arrogant smirk, the young Latino resumed his meditative stance.

Fortunately, however, he didn't have to remain in this state for much longer.

For not two minutes later, he felt a subtle shift in the fabric of reality.

" _Heh_. About damn time."

 ** _FATOOOOM!_**

Suddenly, a large glowing portal opened on the far side of the clearing; causing Marco to chuckle from excitement. Hekapoo said nothing, but glared venomously at the unnatural anomaly. Which I suppose was only appropriate, since this portal was formed not by a pair of her wonderful scissors, but by the arrogant hands of a mortal.

After several moments of silence, a figure stepped through the gateway. It was a bald woman of mixed descent who, strangely enough, was wearing a red leather jacket and what appeared to be a Native American wolf mask. However, upon further inspection, Marco realized that the 'mask' was giving off the same eerie glow as Jefferson's serpents. So, obviously, it had to be a Stand. Which would make her the infamous Nikki à Trois.

For another few moments, the masked woman just stood there; sniffing the air like a hunting dog. But after what felt like an eternity, she made a subtle gesture towards the portal, and was quickly joined by a second figure.

Like a rooster strutting across a barnyard, a large, heavyset black man stepped through the portal with a look of bored superiority etched across his face. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was the man he'd been warned about.

Fats Dynamite.

The Deadliest Man Alive.

'Well… he certainly lives up to his name.' Marco thought amusedly as he took in the fat man's rather bulbous physique. 'Someone needs to lay off the buffets.'

But while the young Latino was busy thinking up more witty remarks, Fats was busy assessing the situation.

First, he looked at Marco. Then he looked over at Hekapoo. Then he went back and forth between them for what felt like hours.

Eventually, his unseen eyes settled on the young Hispanic, and his face split into a grin that prominently displayed his golden canines.

"Well, ain't this some s***!" he said, not even trying to hide his unbridled enthusiasm. "Baby Girl, I do believe we just hit the jackpot!"

"Err… I don't know, Fats. Something doesn't feel right." The bald woman said apprehensively. "That kid doesn't smell the same as yesterday. And that girl… damn, I don't know what the hell she is."

"Is that right?" Fats asked amusedly; never once losing that s***-eating grin of his. "Well, in that case, I guess we better tread carefully. Wouldn't want any _unfortunate accidents,_ would we. Heh-heh _-heh_."

"Fats, I ain't jokin'! Something feels off about this. This is no time for you to be screwin' around!"

"Relax, baby girl. I got this. Now just sit back and let me do my stuff."

And with a casual wave of his hand, the fat man sealed the portal behind him and started waddling towards his prey.

"Well now, looky what we got here." He said swaggeringly as Marco shot him an almost bored expression. "You know, when my man Igloo shot me that text about some new S-Rank User, I thought he was pulling my leg. But after getting a feel for your aura, well… let's just say, you're something else."

"Thanks." The young Latino replied casually. "But I gotta admit, you had me worried there for a while. You took so long to get here, I was starting to think you were ignoring me."

"Hey, cut me some slack, man. My Stand can only take me places I've seen before. I had to take a bunch of brochures from some jackass park ranger just to find this place."

"Did he talk with a southern accent?"

"Yeah."

"Ugh! I know that guy, and you're right. He is a jackass. And a liar."

"If it's any consolation, I broke his collar bone on my way out."

"HA! Are you serious? Oh, that is too good."

" _AHEM_!" went Hekapoo, in a clear attempt to steer things back in the right direction.

"Oh, right, sorry. Got a little off track there for a second." Marco said apologetically, before shifting his focus back on his would-be killer. "So, I take it you're the one everybody's talking about. Fats Dynamite. _The Deadliest Man in the World~ Woooooooo~_ "

"You makin' fun of me, boy?"

"Oh, heavens no. Why would I ever wanna do a thing like that? I mean, it's not like you've ever done anything to me, right?"

At this, Fats just let out a hardy chuckle.

"Alright, alright, I see what's going on here." He said amusedly. "This is some kind of Revenge Trip, isn't it? Don't tell me, that old man was a friend of yours, right?"

"Old man? What old man?"

"Don't play dumb. It was all over the news. The old man in the karate studio. Heck, you're even wearing the same kind of uniform he was. Don't tell me that's a coincidence."

"Old man… karate studio… Hmmm…. You know, now that I think about it, I do know someone who died yesterday. Are you saying you had something to do with it?"

"Fine, fine, have it your way. Keep talking to me like I'm an idiot. But just so you know, it wasn't personal."

"Wow, never heard that one before."

"No, I'm serious. It's no fun killing weaklings, and normally I wouldn't have bothered. But the guy just wouldn't let up. He would've followed me all the way down the block if I hadn't taken him out."

"Oh, go justify yourself to someone else." The young Latino said dismissively. "I stopped caring about that crap a long time ago."

"Say what now?"

"Oh sure, I was upset at first, but after I had some time to think, I realized that trying to avenge Sensei's murder would be pointless. I mean, he died at the hands of the strongest Stand User in the world. A warrior couldn't ask for a more honorable death than that."

"Thank you. So few people understand that these days." Fats replied cockily, before raising an eyebrow in confusion. "But wait, if you're not out for revenge then what do you want?"

"Oh, it's nothing all that complicated really. Tell me, do people really call you the God of Destruction?"

"Yeah, some people call me that. So what?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Marco asked mockingly. "See, I rather like that tittle and I plan on taking it for myself. Even if I have to wring it out of you with my bare hands."

At this, Fats just burst into another hysterical fit of laugher.

" _AH_ -HA-HA- ** _HA_**! Boy, you're straight out of a comic book! _HA_ -HA- _HA_ - ** _HA_**!"

Needless to say, Marco didn't find this nearly as amusing as Fats apparently did. So, not willing to stand for such a blatant show of disrespect, the young Hispanic summoned his Stand's right arm, and at a speed almost imperceptible to the human eye, he picked up a nearby pebble and flicked it at the chuckling fat man with the force and accuracy of a sniper rifle.

 _PSHEW_!

Before anyone even knew what had happened, Fats' newsboy cap went flying across the clearing; and with a new hole in it no less.

At first, the great destroyer was too stunned to react, but after about a minute his smile returned and he started to laugh; even louder than before.

"Fats, are you okay?" Nikki asked her boyfriend concernedly.

"Okay? Are you kidding?" he replied, sounding almost crazed with excitement. "I haven't felt this good in years!"

"You mean…"

"That's right, baby girl. You better step back." He said before fixing his gaze squarely on his next target. "Cuz this s***'s about to get interesting!"

End Notes:

Thanks again to everyone for all your support. Please remember to fav, follow, and/or write a review on your way out. And I'll see you in the next one.

Peace.


	7. Chapter 6

Here's more of the good stuff, folks. Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda. Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 6.

( _Picking up right where we left off_ )

A powerful gust of wind suddenly blew across the open clearing.

Were this a martial arts anime, you could assume that this was a trope to signify an upcoming battle.

However, since this was real life and not a poorly written Japanese cartoon full of tentacle monsters and underaged girls in skimpy outfits, a safer assumption would be that this was just a huge coincidence.

But alas, this is all beside the point.

What matters is that an epic clash between two tremendous powers was about to take place, and Hekapoo was _beyond_ turned on.

"So, big boy, how do you wanna do this?" Marco asked cockily from his lofty perch; drawing the demon girl's eyes in his direction. "Do I come down there or do you wanna come up here?"

"Hey, this is your party, man. You sent out the invite, so you call the shots." Fats replied; still sporting that manic smile that showed off his golden canines. "I mean, you might as well have it your way now, since you won't be breathing for too much longer."

"Alright, then I'll just come to you."

 _WHISHU!_

A split second later, the young Latino was on the ground; standing less than ten feet away from the hefty black man.

"How do you like that, big boy?" he asked mockingly.

"Not bad. Not bad. But how do _you_ like _this_?"

Suddenly, the fat man's aura lit up like a super nova and a large humanoid figure arose from his backside.

Now, being an immortal, ageless being forged from the raw cosmic energies of the universe, Hekapoo was no stranger to the weird and bizarre. But even with her countless years of experience, she was still having trouble wrapping her head around what she was seeing. Oh sure, Marco had explained the whole Stand thing to her long ago, but this… _thing_ was nothing like Kung Fu Fighting.

In terms of form, the enemy Stand resembled an adult human male, but only in the vaguest sense. In terms of appearance, I suppose the best description would be some kind of freaky fusion between an American football player and one of those Super Sentai characters that are so big in Japan. I mean, it was _really_ weird looking; all blue and white, no mouth, ears, or nose, and its eyes were just round, ruby red lenses. It almost looked like a robot, only instead of metal it appeared to be made of foam rubber. And if all that wasn't weird enough, it also had the words 'God of Destruction' written across its chest in big golden letters. In short, it was just plain bizarre; even by Hekapoo's standards.

"Well… that's… different." Marco said bewilderedly; bringing the fire witch's full focus back on him. "Not really sure what I was expecting, but whatever. You make it work. So, are we gonna do this or what?"

"AH-HA- _HA_! I like you, kid. You've got a lot of guts." Fats replied jovially. "Too bad I gotta show 'em to ya."

"Well, are you gonna talk about it or are you gonna do it?"

"Alright, alright, keep your pants on. Sweet Christmas, I ain't never met anybody _this_ tired of breathing."

Blue Swede suddenly reared its right arm back; gearing up for the first strike.

"Okay, boy, you asked for it. Now here it _comes_!"

What came next happened so fast that it was imperceptible to the human eye.

Fortunately, Hekapoo was anything but human, so she saw the whole thing.

Allow me to break it down for you.

First, Blue Swede shot its arm forward in a punching motion. Then, just as it was starting to extend, a tiny, cantaloupe-sized portal opened right in front of its fist; allowing it to pass through. At that same moment, another tiny portal opened up right behind Marco, and the enemy Stand's fist shot out of it like a cannonball. However, before it could make contact with the back of his head, the young Latino summoned the right arm of his own Stand and struck the other Stand in the wrist; both knocking it off course and forcing it to retract.

And all in the span of 0.02 seconds no less.

" _Ugh_!" Fats groaned as he tried to soothe his aching wrist. "No bad, son. Most folks don't see that first one coming."

"Thanks, but it wasn't all that hard. I've been around enough portals to know how to sense when and where one's gonna open up."

"Heh-Heh. Fair enough. But that one was just a test. This time it's for real."

And with that, Blue Swede went into a highspeed flurry of reality puncturing punches, while its master went into his signature battle cry.

" _TORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA_!"

But alas, Marco was not impressed.

He just stood there with his eyes closed and let his instincts takeover.

All around him, portals were opening and closing at random and fists her barreling at him from every angle. By his estimate, Blue Swede was throwing approximately sixty-two punches per second. And with his ability to open portals at will, Fats could send those punches anywhere he wanted so long as he had a clear line of sight or a solid mental picture.

Marco finally understood how one fourteen-year-old boy could've slaughtered an entire army, and how he'd managed to stay on top for all those years. Clearly, he'd spent a lot of time experimenting with his Stand and had learned all he could about its strengths and weaknesses.

Impressive.

But in this case, utterly useless.

For every time one of Blue Swede's fists came close, Kung Fu Fighting blocked it with a quick jab to the wrist.

And so it went on for what felt like minutes.

Lightning fast fists blocking lightning fast fists.

Neither combatant showing any sign of fatigue.

" _TORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA_!"

"Still going at it, eh Fatsy?" Marco asked tauntingly. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Your attacks are useless against me."

" _TORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA_!"

"Useless. Useless. Useless."

" _TORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA_!"

"Useless. Useless. _Useless_!"

" _TORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA_!"

" _Useless_! _Useless_! _Useless_!"

" _TORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA_!"

" _Useless_! _Useless_! _Useless_! **_Useless_**!"

And all the while, Hekapoo just stood on the sidelines; watching dreamily as her man took care of business.

Oh~ How it sent chills up her spine to see him like this.

So powerful.

So in control.

Hard to believe this was the same little boy she found wondering the Wastes of Wunderlon all those years ago.

So lost.

So distraught.

So full of hate.

It was just too adorable.

So, being the kind and generous demonic entity that she was, Hekapoo took the sad little whelp in and nursed him back to something resembling his former self. And after getting the whole story from him and learning about his pseudo psychotic quest for vengeance, she decided to lend him her services… for a price.

You see, eons ago, Hekapoo's home dimension was created by the eldest members of the Magic High Commission to serve as both her base of operations and as a testing ground for beings who desire a pair of her glorious scissors. And as such, with a few exceptions, it was off limits to anyone not currently attempting to earn said prize. Fortunately, however, Marco was one of these rare exceptions.

Having already earned her respect some time ago, Hekapoo agreed to let Marco use her dimension for as long as he wanted. And in exchange, he would perform certain services for her that would be negotiated later.

Having no other options at the time, Marco reluctantly agreed, and thus the bargain was struck.

By day, Marco would train vigorously in the wilderness while Hekapoo watched. And by night, he would retire to the fire witch's forge to perform whatever tasks she desired of him.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Until one morning, Marco woke up and realized that twenty years had passed. Surely, he'd gotten strong enough to take his revenge by then. But strangely, he felt no desire to return home.

Suddenly, it wasn't enough for him to know that he was strong enough to kill the great Fats Dynamite. He wanted, no, he _needed_ to know just how far he could surpass the so-called 'God of Destruction'. So instead he chose to remain in the fire witch's domain and continued with their routine.

As time marched on, Marco began to feel the ravages of age, so eventually it became necessary for Hekapoo to take him back to Earth to reset his timeline. But even then, he was not satisfied; claiming that he still hadn't reached his Stand's ultimate limit. So he retreated back into her dimension.

And so the cycle continued. Train. Age. Reset. Return. Over and over again as the decades turned to centuries. But no matter how hard he trained, no matter how hard he pushed himself, the young Latino never felt like he was close to hitting that all important wall. He never felt close to finding out just how far ahead of everyone else he truly was.

Hekapoo saw the answer all long, but it took Marco almost two thousand years to realize the truth.

If a person can train for that long without reaching his limit, then it can only mean that said person has no limits.

And what do you call a person with no limits?

God certainly comes to mind, but personally she thought such a tittle was far beneath him.

After all, she'd known many gods over the course of her life, and not one of them even came close to achieving this kind of power.

The power to grow stronger with every fight.

The power to improve yourself without limits or restrictions.

The power to surpass everyone and everything through sheer effort.

The power of Infinite Evolution.

Oh~ How just the thought of it made her shudder with ecstasy~

"Useless! Useless! Useless! Useless! Useless! Useless! Useless! Useless!"

The familiar taunts of her beloved brought Hekapoo back to the present.

The scene before her was relatively unchanged; only now it appeared as though Fats was running out of steam.

" _TORARARARARARARARARARARA… RARARARARARAR… RARARARA… RARA… RA…_ Oh, forget it." The fat man said exhaustedly as he finally halted his barrage.

"What's this? Giving up already?" Marco asked mockingly. " _HUMPH_. And you call yourself a God."

"Hey… now don't you mock me, boy…" Fats replied while panting heavily. "Just as soon as I catch my breath… you're a dead man."

"Cocky to the very end, eh? Well, I suppose it's not entirely undeserved. I mean, Blue Swede is quite the formidable Stand. You have every right to be proud. But still, all the power in the universe doesn't mean squat if you can't hit your mark."

"Heh… Heh-Heh-Heh-Heh- _Heh_! Oh, you're quick, boy. I'll give you that. But you can't block me forever."

"And you can't punch me forever."

"Heh… fair enough. Well then it looks like we've got ourselves a draw."

"Not really."

"Say what now?"

"You've been going at full strength this whole time and you're already out of breath. Whereas I've been making due with 30% and I haven't even broken a sweat. The way I see it, you'll be dead in the next two minutes."

"Oh, is that right?"

"Yes, it is. Because to be perfectly honest, I'm already bored with this whole thing. So I'm just gonna kill you and call it a day."

"Oh really? And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Simple." Marco replied, with a touch of malevolence in his voice that made Hekapoo's heart flutter. "I've managed to wear you down this much using only 30% of my full power. Just imagine what I can do with 80."

End Notes:

Next one's gonna be a good one.

Scout's Honor.

Anyway, thanks again for reading and I'll see you next time.

Peace.


	8. Chapter 7

Getting close to end here folks. At least for Part 2 anyway. As always, Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. So without any further delay, Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 7.

( _Less than half a second later_ )

 _BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!_

The air was suddenly shattered by the tremendous force of Marco's erupting aura; sending out a massive shockwave that shook the trees and sent every animal within a ten-mile radius fleeing for their lives.

Back in the clearing, a strange pressure had enveloped the area; paralyzing everyone on the spot and making it very difficult to breathe.

Not that this applied to Marco, mind you. He was well used to the suffocating presence of his own Stand, and he highly doubted that Hekapoo was any worse for wear because of it either. So really, the only ones feeling any negative effects were Fats and his freaky looking girlfriend. Which suited the young Latino just fine.

'Alright, I think that's enough buildup.' He thought to himself with an arrogant sort of half smile. 'Time to go to work.'

So, with a thunderous roar, the young User unleashed the monster deep inside him and let it materialize above his head.

Looking over, he saw that Fats was starting to get a little nervous.

This made his smile grow even wider.

"Not bad, eh Fat Boy?" he called to his opponent mockingly. "I call this baby, Kung Fu Fighting: Star Mode."

Now, had you been there, dear reader, you might've noticed that 'Star Mode' looked virtually identical to Kung Fu Fighting's base form. And you'd be right. It looked almost exactly the same. Same red dress. Same double bun hairdo. Same comedically oversized knockers. Same everything. In fact, the only noticeable difference was a small, starshaped mark tattooed on the Stand's forehead.

But of course, this made no difference to Fats. For he cared not for what the Stand looked like. All that mattered to him was the massive amount of psychic energy it was giving off. And that alone was enough to make the 'Deadliest Man Alive' wet himself from fear.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Marco said brazenly; just lapping up the fat man's fear like a kitten lapping up cream. "See, I call it Star Mode because…"

But alas, Fats did not give him the chance to explain. Instead he had Blue Swede throw another one of its portal-opening punches, which sent its fist barreling towards the back of Marco's head.

Unfortunately for the older Stand User, this proved to be a fatal mistake. For in one swift, imperceptible motion, Blue Swede's fist suddenly vanished and Fats' own right hand fell to the ground with a sickening splat.

" ** _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!_** " he howled in agony as he clutched his bloody stump. "You bastard! You little f***ing bastard! What the hell did you do to me!"

"Fats!" Nikki called hysterically. "Fats, baby, are you okay?"

"Bitch, do I look okay! My f***ing hand is gone!"

"Both of you, shut up." Marco said in a calm but commanding voice; instantly regaining their attention. "Now, as I was saying, I call this form Kung Fu Fighting: Star Mode. Or to be more precise, I call _this_ form Star Mode: Metal Style."

As he spoke, he made a not so subtle gesture towards his Stand; trying to make them both notice that at some point during the last minute its red dress had turned a silvery grey and its right arm had morphed into a long steel blade.

"Now, I can see that you're kinda busy bleeding to death, so I'll make this quick. In kung fu philosophy, there are five natural elements used to represent the different types of combat. They are Earth, Fire, Water, Wood, and Metal. And while in Star Mode, Kung Fu Fighting can control these elemental forces in ways that… well, let's just say it's _pretty_ damn cool. For example."

Suddenly, Kung Fu Fighting's dress turned a dark orange, and its blade arm resumed its original shape; only for both of its fists to spontaneously combust a split second later.

"I call this one Star Mode: Fire Style. And when in this form my Stand can do stuff like this."

Kung Fu Fighting threw a punch and a narrow stream of fire shot out from its fist; plowing straight into Fats' left shoulder.

" ** _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!_** "

"And this."

Then it threw a sideways chop that sent a thin, whip like strand of fire straight into the enemy's chest.

" ** _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!_** "

"And this"

One last quick jab and a tiny fire dagger flew straight into Fat's right kneecap; forcing him to lean on the other one for balance.

" ** _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!_** "

"You know, just to name a few."

"Fats!" the bald woman cried out as she attempted to run to her boyfriend's aid. "Oh jeez, hold on, baby. I'm…"

But before she could even take a step, Kung Fu Fighting made a series of striking hand gestures, causing a large ring of fire to form around the hefty manslayer; cutting off any chance of escape or rescue.

"Ah, Ah, Ah~ No you don't." Marco said with mock disapproval. "The only way you're getting out of here is in an ashtray."

Now, to his credit, Fats managed to stay on his feet in spite of the pain and massive blood loss. And even though the young Latino was giving off more malevolent vibes than a Central American dictator he still managed to keep his cool. In fact, he seemed almost happy. His golden teeth were even showing.

"Heh-Heh." He laughed dryly. "Fine by me."

"Say what now?"

"I _said_ , Fine. By. Me." The dying fat man repeated, pausing briefly to cough up some blood. "Go ahead, boy. You beat me. Now finish me off."

"Fats, don't!"

"Shut up, Nikki."

"But Fats…"

"Bitch, I said shut up!" he roared furiously. "I ain't running away! I ain't no coward! You hear me? Ain't nobody gonna say Fats Dynamite died a coward!"

"So, you wanna die on your feet, eh? Go out with some dignity? _Pssh_. Go right ahead. That suits me just fine."

"Good…but listen. There's one thing I gotta know. What's your name, boy?"

"Marco. Marco Diaz."

"Well, Marco Diaz, I gotta say, you really are something else. You beat me. You beat me fair and square. Good job."

"Thanks." Marco replied dryly. "You know, you're a pretty gracious loser."

"It's called _etiquette_ , smartass. It's something you kids today know nothing about. Believe it or not there's supposed to be rules to this s***. Even back when that spindly ass freak had the whole world scared, people understood things like respect, and honor, and dignity."

"Yeah, and you had to walk fifteen miles through the snow to get to school."

"Go on… keep mocking me, boy. But just remember this, you're the top dog now. And that means that sooner or later you're gonna be on _this_ end of this conversation. Let's see how smart you are then."

"Are you finished?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Good, because I've got one last question for you. What's _your_ name?"

"It's James… that's the name my mama gave me. James Howard Brown. Why?"

"Meh, just curious. Anyway, it's been nice meeting you, Mr. Brown. I'll see you in hell. **_Xiāofáng Zhù_**!"

And with one last subtle gesture from Kung Fu Fighting, the ring of fire erupted into a massive pillar of flames that shot straight into the sky.

For several minutes, the great column burned with such heat and intensity that it rivaled the legendary lava flows of Mount Vesuvius. But then, just as quickly as they appeared, the flames suddenly vanished; leaving behind only a patch of scorched earth and a smoking pile of ash.

This sight seemed to please the young Latino, for after allowing himself an arrogant little smirk, he recalled his faithful Stand back into his body; signifying that the fight was finally over.

"Well… that's that." Marco said with bored satisfaction.

"Eyup." Replied Hekapoo, who had somehow materialized right beside him. "Wait, what happened to that ugly bald chick?"

"Oh, she bolted as soon as I started speaking Chinese. Guess it must've freaked her out."

"That or the fact that you just barbequed her boyfriend."

"Meh, either way it doesn't matter. She's no threat to me. With my power, no one is."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Hot Stuff. You're Stand might be strong, but it's got one major drawback that you haven't noticed yet."

"Oh really? And what might that beh… buh-buh-buh… ugh…."

Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted from somewhere deep within Marco's body; it was almost as if a large ball of molten lead spontaneously dropped into his stomach. The young Latino clutched his aching belly and leaned forward; allowing a short stream of vomit to shoot out from his mouth. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that amidst the bile and bits of half-digested food there was also a generous amount of blood.

"Oh… that can't be good…"

Before he could even try to say anything else, the young warrior's head began to spin.

The world around him began to blur together into a mass of shapes and colors.

For a brief moment, he felt as though he was floating on air.

Then everything went black.

End Notes:

Sorry if this one feels a little shorter than the rest. I just reached the perfect stopping place and decided to go with it. Anyway, there's only about two or three chapters left before I go on break again, so enjoy this story while it lasts. As always, thanks for reading, please follow, fav, or leave a review before you leave, and I'll see you in the next one.

Peace.


	9. Chapter 8

I really hope you people appreciate what I do for you, because editing this chapter was a real nightmare. Anyway, Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Blah. Blah. Blah. Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 8.

( _Several hours later_ )

With a low, throaty groan, Marco awoke feeling dazed and dehydrated.

" _Ugh_ … What happened? Where am I?"

"What happened?" a familiar voice repeated irritably. "You almost died, dumbass. That's what happened."

"Jefferson?"

"No, it's the Blue Fairy, only I left my dress at the cleaners."

"Wha… What's going on? Where am I?"

"You're in my house." The elder Stand User replied bluntly; shooting his young student a disapproving glare. "Well, technically it's Jojo's house, but that's not important. What _is_ important is that up until a few hours ago I was enjoying a peaceful afternoon with my girlfriend. When out of nowhere, a portal opens up in the living room and a demon walks through carrying your halfdead body. A demon who introduces herself as your _wife_. Care to explain?"

"Well, I…"

"Shut up. That was obviously rhetorical. Hekapoo already told me the whole story. The temporal acceleration. The training. Star Mode. Everything. So, I guess my only real question is, **what the hell were you thinking**!"

Still feeling a little groggy, Marco chose not to answer right away. So, instead he just forced himself into a seated position so he could get a better look at his surroundings. Judging by the pink walls, pink bedspread, and miscellaneous occult paraphernalia, he could only deduce that he was in Janna's room. He found the absence of its owner more than a little suspicious, but given his recent power upgrade, the young Latino just shrugged it off and asked a question of his own.

"Where's Hex?"

"Hex? Oh, you mean your _wife_? Yeah, she got called away on business right after I healed you. Left you a note, but we can get to that later. First, I feel I must reiterate, **what the hell were you thinking!** "

"Ugh, will you please stop yelling. You're making a bigger deal out of this than it is." Said Marco as he started to stroke his aching temples. "Wait, back up a second. You said I almost died. How is that possible? That fat idiot never even touched me."

"He didn't have to. Your Stand was putting out more energy than your body could take. It made your stomach rupture. You're lucky she got you to me in time. Otherwise I'd be explaining this whole mess to your parents instead of you."

"That's impossible. I've had my Stand for over two thousand years and nothing like this has ever happened before. Hell, I wasn't even using my full power."

"Yeah, well, your mind and soul might be that old, but your body 's another story. According to your new wife, every time you leave her home dimension, your internal clock resets to Earth's timeline. So as far as your body 's concerned it's only been a day since this whole nightmare got started. And that means it's nowhere near used to the kind of power you've got pumping through it."

"Ah, s***." The young Latino muttered in a rare display of coarseness. "So, what the hell am I supposed to do? Never use my Stand again for the rest of my life?"

"Not necessarily." Jefferson replied, while still maintaining a subtle undertone of disapproval. "It might be possible for you to slowly adapt your body to your Stand's new power. For now, I recommend you not tap into more than 30%. Train hard every day for six months and then see if you can handle 35. Just slowly build up your tolerance and in a few years, you'll be able to access your full strength."

"That sounds like a huge pain in the ass. _Sigh._ But I guess it beats bleeding to death from the inside. Thanks for the tip, teach. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Not so fast, tough guy." The thin man said sternly as he grabbed Marco's shoulder to keep him from standing up. "There's still the little matter of you being married to a demon."

" _Ugh_! You're making too big a deal out of this. Look, even immortals get lonely sometimes. So, every now and then, Hex goes out and finds herself a husband. It just so happens that I'm her type."

"Really? And that's all there is to it?"

"Okay… and, maybe marrying her was the only way to get her to let me train in her dimension. But it's not like I did anything dishonest."

"No, you just sold your soul to a demon as part of a mad quest for vengeance."

"Hex, isn't a demon! She's…"

"I know, she's an ancient cosmic entity who's a member of this big fancy council that secretly runs the universe. Like I said, she told me everything. But if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…"

"And there you go being racist again." The young Latino shot back bitterly. "Oh, and for the record, this had nothing to do with vengeance. I got over Sensei's death a _long_ time ago. This was about putting me in my rightful place at the top of the food chain. Nothing else."

" _Hmph_. I shoulda known this would happen." Jefferson replied almost spitefully. "With that short temper and your irritating self-righteousness, it was only a matter of time before your Stand turned you rabid."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Marco, did you ever stop and ask yourself why there are so many psychotic Stand Users out roaming the streets? It's because the second we tiny humans get a taste of real power we let it go straight to our heads. Oh sure, for most of us it just takes a good kick in the ass to bring us back down to Earth, but some people never come back. They get so high on their own auras that they become completely detached from any logical or ethical reality. Guys like Fats, Ringo, the Hobyah Man, just to name a few."

"Yeah, well I'm not them."

" _They_ weren't _them_ until they _became_ _them_!"

" _Pfft_. Whatever. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Didn't do anything wrong? Marco, you tortured a man and then you burned him alive!"

"I killed a murderer. The same one that killed _your_ friend, and probably would've killed you and everyone else if I hadn't taken him out. So, _you're welcome_."

At first Jefferson did not reply. He just stood there, glaring at the young Latino; his fists clinched with rage. However, after about a minute or so, he regained his composure; letting out a quick cleansing breath just for good measure.

"Okay, Diaz. Let's get one thing straight." He said in a stern but even voice. "End results aside, I am _not_ happy about this. Your actions today were inexcusable and you will _not_ be doing anything like that ever again. Is that clear?"

At this, Marco just let out a soft but sinister chuckle.

"And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?" he asked mockingly. "I'm the _God of Destruction_ , and you're just a pathetic old drunk."

" _Sigh._ I'm gonna let that one slide, because I know that's not really you talking."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that that witch has got your brain so screwed up you don't know what's what anymore."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I _don't_ , do I? Well let me tell you something, Mr. Karate Man. I may not know much about this High Exalted Magic Council or whatever it's called, but I'm an expert when it comes to people. And just from our ten-minute conversation, I can tell you that that Hekapoo chick is twisted. Oh, she might side with the angels, but only because it's convenient for her. If that ever changed, she'd turn on 'em all just for laughs."

"Hex is capricious, I'll give you that much. But that's kinda why I like her. She's a force of nature. A Trickster. Who better for a Destroyer God to have at his side?"

"And what makes you think you'll be calling the shots?" Jefferson asked with more than a hint of mischief in his voice.

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Diaz, has it ever occurred to you that maybe you're not as in control of your situation as you think?"

"Say what now?"

"Think about it. You said earlier that you're her type. But maybe that's only because she _made_ you her type."

"Okay, now you're just talking nonsense."

"Am I? You two were alone together for over two thousand years and now you're an entirely different person. You can't tell me that's a coincidence."

"People change."

"Indeed they do. Especially when other people change them. Face it, Diaz. That fiery skank played you for a chump. She didn't let you into her dimension to help you. She did it so she could turn you into her ideal mate."

"You don't know anything."

"Oh, but I think I do. While you were busy training your Stand, she was busy training you to be her perfect little puppy."

"Shut up."

"I doubt there's a single thought left in your head that she didn't put there. _God of Destruction_. HA! You're nothing but a programable sex doll."

" ** _I SAID SHUT UP_**!" the young Latino roared as he called forth his almighty Stand to smite his hated teacher.

However, much to his complete and utter shock, nothing happened.

Nadda.

Not a hint of a glow from his awesome godlike aura.

Not good.

"Wh-Wh-Wuh-What the _hell_?"

"AH-HA-HA-HA- ** _HA_**! I knew that'd get you riled up." Jefferson said with more than a hint of amusement. "Oh, but what's this? No thunderbolts from Mt. Olympus? What's the matter, oh mighty Zeus? Skip your ambrosia this morning?"

"Stop saying words and tell me what's going on, right now!"

"Alright, alright, don't get your undies in a bunch. Just look at your feet."

On an impulse, Marco did as instructed, and to his great alarm, he found a familiar pair of clawed hands tightly clutching his ankles.

"What the…"

"Janna, I believe that's your cue, sweetie."

As if on command, a mass of inky blackness stretched out from beneath Marco's feet; forming a small pool of darkness at the foot of the bed. Moments later, a familiar figure rose up from the shadows. Not surprisingly, it revealed itself to be Janna's Stand Bangles; whose appearance mirrored that of the ancient god Anubis.

"Hello, Marco." The monstrous jackal-god said, borrowing the voice of its master. "Long time no see."

"Janna, what the hell…"

" _SHHHHH!_ You had your chance to talk. Now you're gonna listen." She said in a calm but threatening voice. "I got home a few minutes before Hekapoo showed up, so I heard the whole story too. Including your plans to have _fun_ with Jackie."

'She told them _that_?' the young Latino thought bitterly. 'That crazy bitch must be up to something.'

"Now, if you were the same awkward little dorken-doofus you were yesterday, I might've been willing to let you try. But with two thousand extra years, you're basically a whole different person. So there's no way I'm gonna let some blood crazed animal like you fool around with my best friend."

"Janna, listen…"

" _SHHHHHH!_ Not done yet." She said almost mockingly. "Now, I'm sure you've already figured this out, but just for the sake of clarity I'll tell you anyway. My Stand has the unique ability to negate the powers of other Stands. Pretty cool, right? I discovered this by accident while I was disposing of that loser Ringo. Wasn't sure if it would work on someone as powerful as Fats, but it seems to work just fine on you. Which means that as long as I'm touching you, you're as helpless as a kitten. And in a position like this, it would be easy for me to… oh, let's say… _bite your head clean off_."

Janna had her Stand show off its full set of razor-sharp teeth; indicating that this was not a bluff.

"I can tell from the look on your face that you understand your situation." Jefferson spoke up; sounding quite pleased with himself. "However, like my adorable little friend here, I too am a stickler for clarity. So, I'll spell it out for you. I knew from the start that trying to reason with you would be pointless. So instead, I devised a little experiment to test out a theory. Wanna know what I've learned?"

Marco knew this wasn't a real question, so he just sat in silence while Jefferson slipped into lecture mode.

"Fact: Janna possesses the ability to nullify a Stand User's power just by touching them; which renders your _godlike_ powers all but meaningless."

"Fact: While her Stand is significantly weaker than yours, the tradeoff is that it has a much wider range; a radius that encompasses nearly all of Echo Creek."

"Fact: Janna can manifest her Stand through any shadow within her radius so long as she has a clear mental image."

"Fact: Janna also possesses an eidetic memory; which means she has an almost flawless map of Echo Creek etched into her brain."

"Fact: You didn't notice that Bangles was holding you until I pointed it out; which means that you can't sense it as long as it's in its shadow form."

" _Fact_ : Janna is willing to kill you should she see you doing anything she finds objectionable."

"With me so far, Diaz?"

"Yeah, I get it."

"Good, because the last thing we need is another short fused, superpowered psychopath roaming the streets. So, here's how it's gonna be. You wanna do your whole God of Destruction shtick, you do it somewhere else; preferably in another dimension. But if you wanna keep living here, then you're gonna be on your best behavior. Anything less and you're dead. No excuses. No second chances. Is that clear?"

"Transparently." Marco replied, attempting to maintain his arrogant demeanor in spite of his humiliating defeat.

"Good." Said Jefferson, still sporting that stern glare the young Latino had grown to hate. "Now, what are we gonna tell the others?"

End Notes:

Only two more chapters and then I'm back in hiatus.

Until then, thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next one.

Peace.


	10. Chapter 9

This is the last chapter before the Epilogue. Sorry in advance that it's so short, but I didn't want to needlessly overcomplicate the plot. Anyway, Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. So without any further ado, let's get things started.

Highway to Hex: Chapter 9.

( _At roughly the same time across town_ )

In a flash of brimstone and balefire, the gorgeous Scissors Enforcer materialized in a world of dust and darkness.

A moment ago, she'd been sitting in on an emergency meeting of the Magic High Commission, listening to Lekmet and Omnitraxus talk about how they still had no idea what was causing _The_ _Fritz_ , and then the next thing she knew she was standing in what upon further inspection appeared to be an old, abandoned warehouse.

Most people might find such an experience frightening or upsetting, but honestly this wasn't even the strangest thing to happen to Hekapoo since lunch.

"Huh… well, this is… above average." She said with a not so subtle air of boredom. "And the décor leaves much to be desired."

An understatement if there ever was one. The interior of the warehouse, or at least what little she could see of it, consisted of nothing but stacks upon stacks of large wooden crates; most likely abandoned long ago, judging by the disgustingly thick layer of dust that covered everything. Aside from the mystic flame that always floated just above her head, the only light source available seemed to be a small ring of candles that formed a circle on the floor around her. Upon closer inspection, Hekapoo noticed that said candles were placed at specific points around what appeared to be an intricate diagram.

A diagram covered in Mewnian Runes.

"A Summoning Circle?" she asked aloud with a hint of genuine interest. "Man, talk about retro."

"A bit crude, I'll admit, but it gets the job done." Said a soft but raspy voice from somewhere just behind her; forcing the tiny fire witch to turn around, just to satisfy her curiosity.

But upon doing so, her amber eyes were met with a most unusual sight.

There, less than five feet away, sat a creature from the depths of your darkest nightmares.

Oh, it was clearly a human, but not like any Hekapoo had ever seen before. It almost looked like a mummy, what with its dry, damaged skin and total lack of muscles, but the subtle gleam in the creature's pale blue eyes indicated that it was in fact still alive; if only just barely. It was dressed in a tattered brown trench coat with matching loafers and a fedora. Its snow-white hair was long enough to reach past the back of its neck and its beard, while much shorter, was dotted with several types of miscellaneous filth; indicating that it probably hadn't bathed recently. But perhaps most striking of all, was the thin plastic tube it had hooked up to its nose, which was in turn hooked up to a small oxygen tank laying on the floor.

In short, this thing... this _man_ … looked like hell.

After the initial shock of his appearance wore off, Hex started to notice a few other unusual things. Firstly, there was the fact that he appeared to be sitting on a stack of old crates that had been rearranged to resemble a throne. Secondly, on the floor next to the oxygen tank, sat an old burlap sack, in which sat, among other things, a _very_ old looking bow and arrow. Third, there was the little matter of the large black crow perched upon his right shoulder; sure, it looked normal enough, but there was just something about it that gave the little fire witch the creeps.

But even more surprising than that, was the small, phantasmal creature sitting atop his head. At first glance, it looked like some sort of animated monkey skeleton, but after squinting at it for a few seconds, she realized that it was more like a wooden marionette that had been painted to look like a monkey skeleton. However, unlike a traditional marionette, this monkey puppet was the size of a human infant and moved without the need for strings. Its mouth was just a goofy, cartoonish grin that appeared to be painted on and its eyes were two tiny pink jewels that seemed to stare right into her soul.

So, in other words, it was living, breathing nightmare fuel.

"Witchdoctor…" the old man said suddenly, bringing Hekapoo back to reality.

"Wh-What?"

"That's my Stand's name. The Witchdoctor. You do know about Stands, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah, I know all about Stands. I've just… never seen one quite like yours before."

"Yes, it is quite interesting, isn't it? But then, you probably see all kinds of interesting things in your line of work, eh, Ms. Scissors Enforcers. Or is it Mrs. now? Sorry, I'm getting on in years, I can't remember all the little details like I used to."

"It's Mrs." she answered, sounding both blunt and confused. "But how do you know about…"

"Not important." The hatchetfaced ghoul said sharply. "What is important is that I went through a lot of trouble to bring you here. I mean, Summoning Circles are so rare these days. And so few people know the formulas for them anymore."

This was true. Back in the early days of the Magic High Commission, if someone wanted to try their hand at earning a pair of Hekapoo's magnificent scissors, a Summoning Circle was the only way to get her attention. However, as time marched on and interdimensional travel became more mainstream, the circles sorta fell out of style. Nowadays, the only people who even knew about them outside of the Commission were scholars and select members of certain royal families. So, how did this shabby Earth hobo know about them?

"I have an acquaintance within the Mewnian Royal Family." He said, somehow knowing what she was about to ask. "And she was kind enough to let me pick her brain."

"Let me guess, Star Butterfly?"

"The very same."

"Figures." Said the fire witch with a roll of her eyes. "But tell me, why do you want to travel to other dimensions? You look like you can barely stand up."

"As I understand it, that's not your concern. So long as I earn them fairly, you have to give me my scissors regardless of what I intend to do with them." The old man replied sharply. "But if you must know, there is a certain place I'd like to see before I die. A world free from violence, prejudice and discrimination. My people refer to it as… Utopia."

"Utopia, huh?" said Hekapoo with a certain air of dubiousness. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I've been everywhere in the universe at least three times and the closest thing to what you're talking about blew up about seventy-five years ago. Sorry, but Utopia doesn't exist."

"Oh, but it will." He replied with a grin; showing off his aged yellow teeth. "Because I'm going to make it."

"Uh… what?"

"You heard me. I intend to make Utopia from the ground up… or die trying."

"Okay, and how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

"Sorry, trade secret." He said impishly. "And besides, it's irrelevant. We have a trial to complete."

"Yeah… I've been thinking about that and… don't take this the wrong way or anything, but… you look like you'd die if I hit you with a feather."

" _Heh-Heh._ Funny. You're quite the card. I can see why Marco finds you so appealing."

"How do you… Okay, stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"Stop reading my mind!" the fire witch exploded. "I know that's what you're doing, so knock it off before I knock your teeth out, you f***ing freak!"

"Easy now, dearie. No need to get upset." The aging derelict replied coolly. "Now, about my test. What would you say to a battle of wits? Perhaps you could ask me some kind of riddle and if I guess right, you could give me a pair of your wonderful scissors."

"How stupid do you think I am?" she asked annoyedly. "You'll just read my mind for the answer."

"Okay… then I'll ask the riddle, and if you can't guess right, I win. Sound fair?"

"Yeah… okay." Hekapoo answered reluctantly. "Go ahead. Ask your stupid riddle."

The old man paused for a moment to clear his throat before he started to recite.

" _I have billions of eyes, yet I live in darkness_."

" _I have billions of ears, yet only four lobes._ "

" _I am the center of every universe, yet to most I am as worthless as mud_."

" _What am I_?"

Oh… now that was a tricky one.

But luckily, Hekapoo had heard something similar to this once before, so she knew the answer almost immediately.

' _Pfft_. Too easy.' She thought arrogantly. 'It's obviously…'

Just then, she felt a strange tingling in her brain and the answer was suddenly gone.

"Uh… um… the answer is uh…."

"Aw~ What's the matter, dearie? Need a hint?" the old man said smugly; allowing himself another toothy grin.

"No!" Hekapoo shot back defensively. "I had the answer a second ago. I just… forgot it… somehow."

"Yes, I'm sure you did. But if you don't mind, I haven't got all night. So either give me an answer or forfeit."

"No, I can get this, just give me a second and I…"

 _Forfeit~_

"Okay, I forfeit." Said the fire witch, having spontaneously decided that this probably wasn't worth the effort. "Congratulations, you won a pair of scissors. Whoop-dee-damn-doo."

"Now, now, no need to be a sore loser." The old man said, once again showing off his ugly yellow teeth. "Just hand me my prize and we can go our separate ways."

"I'll have to head back to my workshop first, but I should have them ready for you in like… eight seconds."

"My, aren't you a busy little bee?"

"Yeah, whatever weirdo." Hekapoo said with a hint of venom in her voice. "Oh, by the way, what's your name?"

"It was my understanding that these sessions were confidential."

"They are, but I still need your name so I can personalize your scissors."

"Oh, yes, of course. How foolish of me." The old vagrant said with a hint of embarrassment. "At any rate, my name is Marcus. Marcus Brando. And believe me, dearie. That's a name you'll not soon forget."

End Notes:

Again, sorry this one was so short, but this just felt like a natural stopping place. Anyway, up next is the Epilogue. Then I go on hiatus again. Until then, please remember to follow, fav, or leave a review on your way out.

Peace.


	11. Epilogue

Well, here it is. The final chapter of 'Highway to Hex'. Once this is done, I'm going back on hiatus until November. So please, make it last. As always, Star vs the Forces of Evil is owned by Disney and Stands are the creation of the brilliant and talented Hirohiko Araki. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda. Enjoy.

Highway to Hex: Epilogue.

( _Pachym Desert, Zunaan Dimension: June 6, 2046_ )

"And that's pretty much it." The Latino King said, bringing his story to a sudden, but overall satisfying end. "From that day on, your Aunt Janna never let me out of her sight. Always watching me, making sure I was on my best behavior. And Jefferson, that sanctimonious jackass, was always ready with a lecture and a smug remark. Sweet Christmas, I didn't know one day of peace until I graduated high school. Later that summer, I severed every tie I had to Earth, and I've never looked back."

"But what about your parents?" Marisol asked suddenly. "Don't you ever visit them?"

"Don't need to. They think I'm dead."

"What?"

"Yeah, I faked my own death a few weeks after graduation. It was… easier than telling them about my plans."

"That's horrible!"

"Not the way I see it. Oh sure, I loved my parents, but I also recognized them as a potential inconvenience. That's why I never told them about a lot of things. So as far as they know, I lived and died as their perfect son. And really, what better farewell gift could I have given them?"

"That's messed up."

"Now, now, little princess. No need to be so judgmental. After all, this universe of ours is full of all kinds of people. And their ways of thinking are as far apart as their home planets." Marco explained, before adopting a somewhat condescending smirk. "But of course, if a little thing like contrasting ideologies upsets you this much, maybe you should just go home and spend the rest of your life hiding under your bed."

Marisol winced a little at the older man's derisive comment. Clearly, she wasn't used to being spoken to this way by someone other than her sister.

Solaris seemed a bit bothered by it as well, and he would've voiced his discontent, had his other daughter not shoehorned herself into the conversation.

"Wait, I don't understand." Artemis spoke up suddenly. "If you hated Jefferson so much, why did you go to his funeral?"

"Say what now?"

"I mean, you just said you won't go to Earth to visit your own parents. So why would you go there for someone you hated? It doesn't make any sense."

"It's complicated, kid." Marco replied bluntly. "You'll understand when you're older."

"I can't wait that long. Explain it to me now."

"Look, I don't know why I went to that stupid funeral, okay? Maybe I felt guilty because I spent all of high school treating him like crap even though he was only trying to help me? Maybe I felt like I owed it to him since his stupid restrictions kept me from turning into a monster like Chantelle? Maybe I just wanted to see your mom? I don't know. I'm not a f***ing psychiatrist. Leave me alone."

Just then, the mighty warrior king made an unusual face.

The kind of face a person makes when they realize they've just said something they shouldn't have.

"Chantelle?" Artemis asked confusedly. "Who's Chantelle?"

"Uh…" Marco replied dumbly; looking as though he were about to defuse a time bomb. "Well… you see… Okay, here's the thing about that…"

Fortunately, before the great Destroyer God could embarrass himself any further, a fiery portal suddenly opened on the other side of the room and a familiar figure walked through.

Not surprisingly, it was Marco's wife, the lovey and powerful Lady Hekapoo, who was carrying what appeared to be a pair of human-sized hamster balls; one in each hand.

"Hey, Babe. Sorry I'm late." The elegant fire witch said; blissfully unaware of the awkward conversation she'd just prevented. "Would've been here sooner, but you know how those Lombaxes are. _Oh, our species is the greatest in all the universe because we invented the s***iest method of interdimensional travel ever._ Bunch of fur-faced pricks. You know, if they'd just quit acting like f***ing martyrs and ask for my help, they could've rejoined the rest of the universe decades ago instead of rotting away in that lame ass pocket dimension of theirs. Wait… what was my point again?"

"No idea." Marco answered, shifting gears faster than a professional drag racer. "But it's good to have you back, Gorgeous."

Falling back into his usual swagger, the great warrior king walked toward his horned queen and trapped her in a loving embrace, before further exercising his authority as head spouse by engaging her in a forceful, but welcome kiss.

Fortunately, the two orbs she was carrying seemed to be lighter than air; for they remained floating in place long after Hekapoo's arms had gone limp form ecstasy.

One micro-eternity later, the kiss was broken off, and the little fire witch was left feeling weak in the knees.

"What was that for?" she asked, looking flushed and out of breath.

"I'll tell you later." Answered her husband, before immediately changing the subject. "So, are these the new Restoration Pods?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, and they're the latest models too. Those Lombaxes aren't good for much, but they make a damn decent pod. Way I see it, these should have the girls back in fighting shape in about… half an hour."

"Good, then get right to it." He said in a calm but commanding tone before turning his attention back on the Mewman King. "Solaris, would you mind joining me out in the hall for just a moment?"

"Why?"

"Because before they can get into the pods, your daughters have to take their clothes off first."

"Oh, yes, of course!" the legendary swordsman said embarrassedly; blushing profusely and needlessly averting his gaze. "Now, um…girls, you be good for Lady Hekapoo. Understand? You are the heirs to the Royal House of Butterfly and I expect you to behave as such. Is that clear?"

"Yes, daddy." The twins answered in unison.

"Excellent. Now, if you need me, I'll be out in the hall with your Uncle Marco. TTFN and all that."

And with that, the two kings exited the room; once again freeing them to speak without the fear of revealing something they shouldn't.

"Well… that was almost a huge f***ing disaster." Marco said with a sigh, once he was certain they were out of both sight and earshot.

"Indeed." The Mewman King replied, pausing for only a moment to regain his composure. "Though from here on out, I do advise caution. When it comes to you, my wife tends to be a bit… overly forgiving. But when it comes to the events of _that_ night… well…"

"You don't have to tell me, Kingy. I was there. I saw what that f***ing lunatic did. What she… made Star do. _Shudder._ That s*** 'll give anyone nightmares."

"It's not that. I just… I don't want the girls to get the wrong idea about their mother. I don't want them to think she…"

Just then, the Latino King placed a hand on his companion's shoulder; the universal gesture of sympathy between two men, for those of you who aren't in the know.

Fortunately, Solaris _was_ in the know, so he gave Marco the customary 'manly smile'; indicating that he both appreciated the warrior king's gesture and accepted his sympathy.

"Hey, don't worry about it, man." The Latino said good-naturedly. "It was just a slip of the tongue. It won't happen again. You have my word."

"Thank you." The Mewman King replied gratefully. "And I know you'll keep it. Despite your numerous flaws, I know you to be an honorable man."

"Thanks… I think." He said, before switching gears yet again. "But listen, there's something else I've been meaning to talk to you about. And it's kinda important."

"Very well, what seems to be the problem?"

"It's not so much a problem… more of a helpful suggestion. It's about Marisol. Once this summer is over, I want you to start training her to use the Flash Step technique."

" _What_? Why?"

"Because she's a natural." The Latino King answered bluntly. "You may not have noticed this because you're so f***ing overprotective, but that little powderpuff has the instincts of a Whimsy Clan fighter. She thinks she's a coward because she avoids direct confrontation, but when she's cornered her body goes into autopilot. She bobs, weaves, blocks, and pivots like a professional boxer. All she needs is a little push, and she could master the Flash Step by her seventeenth birthday."

"I… I had no idea." Solaris replied, sounding more than a little ashamed of himself. "Are… are you sure?"

"Solaris, please, I'm the strongest warrior in the universe. I know talent when I see it. And little Marisol has it in spades."

"My word… but wait, what about Artemis?"

" _Sigh_. Yeah… Artemis is a whole 'nother story. She thinks she's a scrapper, but she's got no instincts whatsoever. Her movements are erratic and formless, and she's so desperate to distance herself from her mother that she blindly throws herself into conflict without giving any thought to strategy. And if she keeps it up, she'll be dead before she turns fifteen."

"Good gracious… what should we do?"

"Well… while I have her, I'll do my best to try and rid her of some of her more self-destructive habits. But at the end of the day, Artemis just isn't built for combat. Her aura's more suited for spellcasting than fisticuffs. And the sooner she realizes this, the longer she'll live."

"I see… then we must tell her immediately."

" ** _EEEH!_** Wrong!" Marco bit back with playful sharpness. "Do that and you'll just push her closer to death. You want kids to do something, you gotta make 'em think it was their idea. That's Parenting 101."

"Uh-huh. And how do you propose to do that?"

"Not sure yet. But if I can't think of something, I'm sure Jackie will. Helping lost souls find their way is kinda her thing after all."

"Hmm… well, you're not wrong about that. But still, this is all a bit much for me to swallow. I've known those girls their whole lives and nothing you've said sounds even remotely like them."

"Look, you believe whatever you want, but mark my words. Artemis is destined to sit on her mother's throne. And little Marisol… well, give her twenty years or so and she might even have a shot at my tittle."

"My little Marisol, as strong as _you_?" the Mewman King said aghast. "You-you can't be serious."

"As serious as a heart attack, baby." The Destroyer God replied, sporting a playful sort of smirk. "But then, that's just my humble opinion."

End Notes:

Coming this November: Flowers and Brimstone.

Pinball Wizard vs Georgia Devil.

See you then, my faithful followers.

Peace.

PS. Lobaxes are owned by Insomniac Games and Sony Interactive Entertainment.


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